Coming awake by degrees, Caspian shifted, a weight was on his chest, and one on his leg. Cracking an eye open he saw Susan nestled comfortably in his arms, sleeping peacefully. She looked soft and tiny there, and like it was just right. With a smile, he stroked her hand were it rested over his heart, right infront of her nose. It'd been a long time since he had woken up feeling so rested. She'd touched him, all on her own, kissing him, stroking him, that was a gift and a surprise. Licking his lips, Caspian picked up her hand, brushing each finger with his mouth. Trying to pinpoint the feeling he was having, Caspian realized with a grin that he felt... good. This was what he'd been searching for from her, this... this... no. No. His heart started to hammer in his chest, this was bad. What he was feeling was bad, not good, it was inappropriate, it was wrong. Men didn't feel this way, it was weak.
Susan rubbed her cheek against him, smiling as she snuggled closer, her leg tangling further with his. A bolt of desire, soft, and strong in one fired his blood. Caspian struggled, fighting it back, this was wrong. Unable to move, unable to act, Caspian watched as Susan's eyes fluttered open partially and she smiled up at him. An open mouthed kiss was pressed to his pectoral, her fingers drawing lazy designs on the side of his cheek where she was cupping it.
"Good morning, sleep well?" she was practically purring.
The sound terrified him, and angered him. He was Telmarine. He was a man. Not some... weak... tainted.. woman. With an enraged snarl, Caspian shoved her off of him, and clambered to his feet gracelessly. Away, he needed to get away from the poison she had put in his veins. Caspian was a man, and he couldn't afford the weakness she had injected him with.
"Caspian?" Susan sounded worried. "Caspian what's wrong?"
"Shut up," yanking on his clothes in jerky motions, back to her. If he looked his mother's weakness may overtake him.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" there was a smack from her hand thudding on her bed.
"I said shut up woman!" managing to shove his foot into the boot he was struggling with. Yes, away, away, away that's where he needed to be. Needed to remind himself that she was nothing more than a possession. Not something he should be cuddling with. Disgusted with himself, Caspian now clothed was slinging his swordbelt around his hips though his hands shook. "Do not say a fucking word. Not a one!"
He'd made a mistake going to her last night.
Somehow his control slipped and he glanced back at her, "This will not happen again," before storming out.
Too bad he couldn't get the image of her kneeling, nude, face flushed with angry tears, and a look in her eyes of utter disappointment.
Caspian tore through the halls, needing distraction.
Needing punishment.
Collaring Glenstorm, "I am going out on patrol with Ironhoof." Split seciond decision, "On the east front."
"Your Highness that's the roughest section," the centaur protested. "And just yesterday -"
Cutting his hand through the air, "The defenses there need bolstering. Maybe the presence of their general will help. Say no more, you are in charge for the duration of my absence. I shall take a fresh rotation of soldiers and supplies. Have it ready within an hour."
His second started to protest, "But-"
"Do it!" snarling.
"Yes, Your Highness," as he bowed solemnly.
Watching as the proud warrior walked away, issuing orders, Caspian went to Destrier's stall, where no one could see him, and collapsed against the horse's flank, shivering. How far had the disease spread? Oh it'd spread very far indeed, thinking about the day before. And Caspian knew he was in trouble, a trouble he had know idea of how to get out of. He could kill Susan, but the troops seemed to need her, and since she'd arrived the efforts of his men had doubled. Susan was too useful to kill at this point, and... he was frightened he couldn't do it. Yesterday all he'd thought when he heard that soldiers were heading towards the How, was that he wouldn't let anyone take Susan from him, not about his soldiers, not about his throne. But about a mere woman. No one would take her from him, he'd vowed yesterday - not even himself. So he must honour that word, though it'd not been uttered. Struggling for the control that had eluded him, Caspian waited for news that everything had been made ready to go.
Caspian was bloody, he hated being bloody. It wasn't pain that was so bad, it was the sticky, dirty feeling that got to him. Pain was a constant companion until he'd fled his home. Now only stress was his usual friend, and these hurts he had - they were nothing. Driving himself onward, pushing Destrier harder than he should, Caspian nudged him into a trot. Blood was terrible, it made his clothes cling to him, made him smell, and made it difficult to move properly because it stiffened the fabric and leather. Not only that but blood could speed up the rusting of his chainmail.
Ironhoof managed to keep his head up high beside him. As Glenstorm's younger brother, the centaur had no technical right of command, yet Caspian had assessed the man and decided to give him one of the worst fronts. So far the captain hadn't buckled. Signs of fatigue were all over him though, just as Caspian knew they were all over him.
"Your High-"
Shaking his head, "No titles between us thank you. They only get in the way." Shifting uncomfortably, trying to resettle his brigadine over the chainmail and gambeson he wore, "We took a pounding, and we got out of it. That is what matters, do not fret. Leave that to me."
Surprised, then resigned, "As you command."
They were three days into the patrol, and so far they'd had to cope with seven attempted ambushes. If it hadn't been for the fresh men Caspian had brought with him, he feared the group would have been cleaned out. Leaning over in the saddle, Caspian rummaged in his pack for some of the dried nut and oat rations, also tugging out some jerked meat. For what it was worth, Narnian's knew how to make good rations that were filling and good for energy. Defiantely better than the Telmarine idea of boot leather and gruel. Wordlessly he offered some to Ironhoof who looked like he could use a bit of nourishment, Caspian munched quietly. He should have come out here before now, but hadn't because he'd wanted to stay closer to the How. Closer to Susan.
That had been a terrible thing, one of his worst ideas ever, and he'd grown complacent. When he got back he'd have to correct matters. Raising his hand, Caspian signaled a halt, everyone needed a few minutes to lick their wounds and catch their breath. And Destrier could probably do with a bit of time without hauling his ass around. Leather creaked as Caspian dismounted, holding his food between his teeth.
That was when he heard it, just beneath the jingling of harnesses and armour, under the rustlings of exhausted troops.
Apparently Ironhoof had heard it too - and the centaur leaped infront of Caspian, sheilding him from the shafts. Strong hands threw him back into the saddle from where he'd partially dismounted.
"Ambush!" it was hollered, and there were screams as men died. Ironhoof was bleeding profusely, grabbing Destrier's reins and urging the steed into renewed energy, "Get to safety!"
Caspian tried to spin his mount about, but couldn't, not in time. Ironhoof screamed in agony, then was cut short, feathered shafts sprouting from him like a pincushion, blood gouting, one taking him directly in the throat. Yanking his sword from its scabbard, Caspian finally got his warhorse turned around, and raced back in. Hacking about him, as Telmarines streamed into the path, cutting off both ends of it, Caspian fought desperately, trying to rally his men.
"To me! To arms! Defend yourselves!" he barely noticed when his shoulder was pierced, and he didn't notice when metal jarred against bone in his thigh, pinning him to the saddle. Caspian's sword rose and fell, like he was cutting wood, that's what it was like. Somehow his worn out men managed to throw off their attackers, make them pay dearly, despite the fact that the Telmarines outnumbered them three-to-one. Panting, Caspian was dizzy, but couldn't let the Narnians see that, not now, not with Ironhoof down.
As he attempted to dismount once more, Caspian howled, pain ripping through his leg, and the realization that he'd been shot finally came to the fore. Wrenching the arrow out was his first inclination, but he knew there were too many vital blood vessels there, so Caspian struggled through the fog of pain, directing his men best he could in his condition.
"We must fall back," through gritted teeth, "to the base camp. Then evacuate to... other.. camps. Pylonus, you - you are captain now."
"Sire we must have you seen to," the satyr pointed to three of the men who were the least injured, "Take him back to the -"
"No! No! No, not back to main base," clinging to the saddle horn, "could lead them there," waving at the trees. "We must not do that. Must not."
The patrol camp was in an uproar. Amongst evacuating and making plans for circuitous escapes to throw off any potential trackers, the injured had to be cared for. Caspian was one of them. It was something that pissed him off, because frankly he was fine, just a little scuffed up. But everyone was insisting that he be returned to the How. And he wasn't about to go back. He had two more days to be out on patrol, and he'd see them through. From there he wasn't sure what he'd do though, probably not go back to the How. Change his main base to somewhere else, somewhere unexpected. Yes, so he could draw Telmarine activity and searches away from trying to find the How, and... finding Susan.
Wincing, Caspian shoved thoughts of her away. Pain had finally settled into his body, which was good, it was a good punishment. A reminder of who he was. Telmarines are pain, and surviving it. That's who he was, not some soft woman. Not tainted. One of the minotaurs had been standing guard over him, like he was some child, Grilf, loyal to a fault, and dumb as a rock. Caspian had to look good infront of such a Narnian, they'd once been enemies of Aslan, and of most Narnians in times past according to history. Before he could take two steps though, Grilf lay a steadying hand on Caspian's back, assisting.
Growling, "I do not require assistance Grilf. I am quite fit thank you."
The minotaur looked uncertain, "Your Highness, careful, you are injured."
"I know, and I know my limits," glancing at the many scars - some fresh some old, "just as it is apparent you know yours. I will not quit the field because of some trifling knicks when my men bear worse upon their flesh. I am no coward."
"My Liege, it's not that," Pylonus came up, "but you're too valuable to leave here in such a condition. We can't have you hurt or taken from us."
Grilf nodded, "You are the brain of this army," and Caspian was startled at how well spoken the minotaur was. "We are but the limbs, something that can be cut off when needed, without you - the body fails."
Looking around, Caspian saw many of the Narnian's watching him, some directly, some not, all of them waiting. "Is this what you all think? That you mean less to this effort than me?"
A few 'yes's and many nods.
"Sire, it's bad enough you come out here on patrol, it's bad enough that you risk yourself so often," Pylonus said, "we appreciate your love and devotion to us. But we need you more than you need us. You're our hope, our one chance at freedom again."
"And you're the one man we'll all follow," Grilf hefted his ax, shifting from one foot to the other. "We welcome you to our ranks, we are your tools, we are your hands, but we need direction. And so - you can not be wasted out here. Please, allow us to take you back to the How."
"Don't let Ironhoof's sacrifice be in vain," Pylonus pleaded, his large brown eyes under his blond mop of hair, wide and ernest.
At the mention of Glenstorm's younger brother, Caspian felt a stab of guilt, if he hadn't been there, maybe the centaur would have survived. Growling to no one in particular, "How am I to lead if I do not know what each of you has to go through? How are you to trust me to know what is right, if I do not see what goes on daily?" Shaking his head, Caspian raked his good hand through his dirty hair, "I cannot lead effectively without understanding all of this. I do not have the experience... And I cannot fail, for many reasons."
Pylonus and Grilf shared a look, and the minotaur came closer, towering over Caspian, "Your Highness, to do that you must live. I am taking you back to the How. You may court martial me later, but if I have to throw you over my shoulder I will do it."
"Is that how it is then?" angry, hand resting on his hilt.
Four more minotaurs, a couple fauns and one huge Eagal who landed to bob his head, crowded Caspian, not allowing him freedom to draw steel, "Yes Your Highness, that is how it is."
Gritting his teeth, "Fine. Bring me Destrier." Without the aid offered, despite the agony in shoulder and thigh, Caspian swung up, "Lead on then. But you will be punished."
Grilf bowed his head, "And I accept it, I pledged my life and my honour to you Your Highness, and I will see you safe to the How, no matter the cost, for I am but one soldier, you are all of them."
Caspian had to admire him for his willpower, even if he was enraged at the situation. Insubordination was a dangerous thing, and if his men thought they could coddle him, could order him about like this, then some examples had to be made. Even if Caspian didn't like that thought much. Grilf's loss would be felt out here on the eastern front, for he was obviously more astute than Caspian had given him credit for. And he could use every man like that he could get. Nudging Destrier with his knees gently, he moved out with his small guard.
XXX
Susan was frightened, then she was angry, then she was frightened again. Caspian had fled her bed, their bed, and that hurt. But now what hurt more was finding out that the day he'd been wounded, Caspian had been drawing away an enemy group, taking on a five to one number, and leading them into an unplanned ambush, using another patrol for backup. It was a wonder he'd only been injured mildly considering he'd only been dressed for light skirmishing - just his thick brigandine and no mail. And now she had no clue where he was. Beside herself with worry, Susan bumped into Glenstorm.
"Oh! I'm so sorry Glenstorm, are you okay?" looking up from where she'd managed to trip over her skirts, falling onto her butt.
"Your Highness, I am fine, here," he leaned down, taking her hand, "tell me, where were you dashing off to so fast?"
Blushing, "Oh nowhere." Then she noticed the honorific, "I'm not royalty Glenstorm, I'm not even a lady. Just plain old Susan Pevensie here. Mistress to a jerk."
The observant commander raised an eyebrow, obviously picking up on the sadness Susan felt. His hand landed atop her shoulder, urging her to come along with him, "You worry over him."
"Well don't you? I haven't had any word in days, I don't know where he is and no one will tell me anything..."
Quiet, then the lyrical rumble, "He is on the eastern front, patrolling with Ironhoof."
That stopped her cold in her tracks, "He's what?
"He's patrolling on the eastern front with Ironhoof," pausing as he glanced over a massive shoulder.
Shaking her head, "I heard you the first time. Is he stupid or something?"
"Maybe you should ask him that when he returns," resuming his walk.
Snorting, "I ask him that all the time, and he usually doesn't answer me. Probably doesn't have the brainpower to come up with one that won't make him sound even more an imbecil." She knew she sounded worried, and Susan gratefully accepted Glenstorm's proffered hand for comfort, "Oh Morningdew should've heard from our spies by now, why didn't she tell me?"
"Spies? I was wondering where all the extra information was coming from," the centaur's hand was calloused and warm.
Realizing her slip up, "Shit."
"Don't worry, I've suspected for a few days, my mate tends to forget that just because I'm male doesn't mean I'm a... what's your word? Yes, an imbecil," chuckling.
Blushing, Susan looked up at him, "You won't tell will you? You know he'll just try and interfere and micromanage, he already does too much."
"Tell me what makes a good mate, what do you think of such things Your Highness?"
"I'm not a princess Glenstorm," frowning up at him, still holding his hand.
"As you say, Your Highness," and she realized Glenstorm was baiting her. Or at least she thought he was.
"Are you teasing me?"
"Possibly, I'll answer your question if you answer mine. What makes a good mate?" moving through the halls.
"A good spouse supports the other where they are weak, that's what I think," tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And watches the other's back, tries to understand them even if it's hard."
"Anything else?" his voice was soothing. Susan wondered if he sang, and if so, how wonderful it'd sound.
"Well, to do your best to be there and be strong for them, to accept them when no one else will, to look beneath things to find the truth and not shy away from it," shrugging, "love is what most people say, but there's a lot more to it than that. It's about being responsible and about being strong and weak too. It's about trust."
"How old are you, Your Highness?"
"Hey, that's another question!" Glenstorm gave her a look, and Suan sighed, "Seventeen, why?"
"Caspian is twenty-three, and has had twenty-two years of being a Telmarine under his belt, what do you think of that?" Glenstorm was leading her further back into the How than she'd ever gone before. Susan looked about curiously.
Shrugging, "I think he could use a swift kick to the head most of the time, not that it'd help." Before Glenstorm could ask, "I think he needs someone he feels safe with, that he can relax around really. For a minute or two there," looking down at the floor, Susan's brows furrowed, "I thought that might be me. But everytime I do, he just.. just up and runs away, or is downright nasty to me. I want to hate him, and I want to be there when he hurts. Basically I'm confused."
"Between the two of you, you're the one who can think long term, you're the one who sees what's around you, yet I do not think you see everything Your Highness," and then Susan realized they were in a cubbyhole of an area.
The scent of horse and copper and man and leather was thick here, and in the corner were a cloak and blanket, someone's sleeping place. Caspian's sleeping place. And all around papers, a few carvings, a half mended harness, and bits of armour. Releasing Glenstorm's hand Susan walked around, examing everything carefully before touching the things that were strewn about. This little hole was where Caspian slept when Susan practically lived in absolute luxury comparatively. With great care, Suan picked up a few pieces of paper, most of them just normal reports and such, but in sharply slanted neat script were questions, and his musings as to what her take would be on various measures and remedies. Gathering her skirts in one hand, Susan ducked down, having to bend double to get to the corner where Caspian would rest, and she realized he'd have to get in almost on hands and knees to fit in. Plopping down, Susan quietly dug around, somehow managing to resist the overhwelming urge to pick up and smell his blanket. Something poked her leg, it was tangled in the cloak, and when Susan pulled it out, her eyes widened. It was a figurine of a girl, no longer than her palm, dancing it looked like, in a pair of pants and a fluttering tunic. Examining it closely, there was a tiny scratch on her cheek, barely etched into the wood. The wood had been polished and rubbed with oil, giving it a warm glow. Searching, Susan found more such carvings, most of them of the same thing - a girl doing this or that. With no thought whatsoever Susan knew it was her, all of them were her. Becoming frantic, Susan began to gather them all up, as well as piling his papers in a neat stack. Caspian didn't belong in this tiny little hole while she slept in comfort, and a tear or two threatened to fall.
She hated how much she'd cried since she'd come here to Narnia, it wasn't like her, but there was so much pain around her, that Susan couldn't help it. And this place reeked of misery, of an anguish she'd never fully understand. Somehow she'd become the one comfort this man had, a man who'd had to kill his mother, a man who'd had to kill his father, and live in hell. Yes she still hated him at times, but not really Caspian, more how he was. The dreams made sense now, the ones about a good Caspian, smiling and happy. That's how he should be, it was her subconsciousness telling her that. Being Telmarine was choking him, destroying him. Hurting him. Susan wouldn't tolerate it, and if that man couldn't get it through his thick skull she'd bash it in with kindness until he did. As well as the occasional insult and maybe a smack to grab his attention.
Glenstorm's back was turned, guarding the little aperture that entered Caspian's space. This was a private thing, and Susan was glad he let her have this new knowledge. Ultimately Susan was a fixer, and she'd do what she could. Gathering it all up, partially mended harness, the couple sets of clothes, and all, into his cloak and blanket, clutching the stack of papers in her other hand, Susan wriggled back to where she could stand.
Announcing, "Caspian's things are to go to his room, and from now on, all reports are to be brought there. I'd like a desk put in for him, a proper one if one can be found. Is that alright?"
"Of course Your Highness," Glenstorm seemed pleased, though not overtly.
Together they walked back to her room, all the while Susan mulled things over. She'd have to figure out a plan of attack on this problem. Of course she didn't like him, she wasn't sure she ever would, but Susan did find herself becoming fond of him. Otherwise she wouldn't worry so damnably much over the brute. Annoyed with herself though, Susan finally noticed that the bastard had gotten under her skin. There was nothing to do for it though, just as there was nothing to do for the fact that she was stuck in Narnia. And like always when there was no way out, Susan just made the best of it. While protesting loudly and violently, so other situations didn't think that she was easy pickings. No need to invite further difficulties she couldn't get out of.
The meager pile of belongings was placed with tender care on her pallet for sorting later, now she had to go find Morningdew, see if any reports had come in about Caspian's patrol.
"M'lady!" Rosetta burst in, frantic, hands wringing.
"Rosetta? What's wrong?" rushing over to her.
"Outside, oh no outside there's trouble!"
"Show me," becoming no-nonsense, brisk and efficient, like when Lucy or Edmund would come running to her when they had a problem.
They were practically running, and in came a huge minotaur, one Susan had never seen before, and on his back was a pale Caspian, bleeding profusely. Two healers were trying to get the minotaur to set him down so they could look him over, but Susan interrupted.
"Sir Minotaur, please, follow me. Rosetta, get me a satyr who's got the skill with music, he'll need something soothing, you," pointing at one of the healers, "bring your kit to our room. And you," now the other one, "see to anyone else's injuries!"
"My lady," the minotaur rolled in his deep voice, "there are no other survivors."
"I see, here, allow me to help?"
The great beast shook his head, in obvious pain from his own wounds, "I will carry him, it was my charge to see him to safety."
Nodding, Susan led the way, shutting down all the terrified parts of her mind. They had no place here. This was a crisis, and she'd never been in a real crisis, she always had thought preventing Peter from being beaten half to death was a big deal, but it paled in comparison. But it did provide the basis for her calm, calm was what would save Caspian, just as calm was what would allow her to break up the fights.
"Sir minotaur, please tell me your name," becoming the eye in the storm, Susan exerted her sphere of serenity past herself.
"Grilf of the Kino Clan, Your Highness," it was like his vocal cords were grinding mountains it was such a deep rumble.
"Well Grilf of the Kino, I thank you for seeing Caspian here, yes just, here let me help a bit," as Grilf tried to gently lay Caspian down, "and now - you go rest, have the other healer see to those wounds. Glenstorm will see you shortly for debriefing if you are still awake. Your honour," taking his large hairy paw in hers, "has been seen to. Thank you." Half curtsying to him, which seemed to put the large being into a state of awe, before Susan ushered him out. The room wasn't big enough for too many people. "Rosetta, get Jumbletot, then come back here, I'll need your help."
"Yes m'Lady!"
Susan cracked out orders this way and that, making sure things were seen to her way. When she sent Jumbletot to tell Glenstorm to talk to Grilf, to debrief the minotaur, she also told him to check for any other possible survivors along with a fast patrol of fighters headed by Morningdew to scout for any enemies nearby.
It took hours that felt like centuries to get Caspian cleaned and stitched up. The whole time Caspian was out like a light, a nasty knot on the back of his head probably reason coupled with bloodloss. There'd been a few gasps when everyone realized the extent of Caspian's scars, and Susan who'd never really had a good look at him almost screamed in horrified rage - what sort of people could do that to another? - but she'd contained it. Between the healer, Rosetta and Nikabrik who'd shown up, Susan couldn't afford to let them see her worry. Glancing over at Nikabrik, she wasn't sure if she liked the black dwarf or not. Something seemed off about him, yet Rosetta was comfortable with him, so Susan kept up her apparent aura relaxation.
"What I want to know," Nikabrik's voice was grating on Susan's nerves, she still held it against him that he'd given her such an ungentle welcome into this place, "is why everyone jumps when she says so."
"Nikabrik I didn't see you doing anything," Rosetta gave him a glare. They both probably thought they were quiet. Well they weren't.
"I remember when she was supposed to be a spy, maybe she is," and Susan could feel his suspicious glower.
Speaking up, "If I was a spy then by now I would have killed Caspian." Not looking at the duo, "Frankly even though I'm not, there's times I wouldn't mind taking a paddle to him, but I wouldn't actually hurt him." Sighing softly, Susan lay the back of her hand on his forehead, checking to see if he'd started warming up, "I don't want anything to happen to anyone, sure maybe a beating or two to those who deserve it, but in general Nikabrik I have no interest in seeing anyone harmed. Ever. In fact, it makes me want to add you to the list of 'those who need a paddling' that you think that of me." Regally Susan gathered herself, rising to her feet, "But would I ever let you be hurt if I could help it? No, never would I wish actual harm to befall you. Maybe a swift kick in the head from a centaur or something, but actual harm, no. And you'd better get that through your head."
Nikabrik just stared at her in irritated surprise, "Well I guess that settles it then."
"Yes, yes it does," snapping at him. "Now I know you're his friend, just like two of a kind - like how every ass needs two cheeks to make them a proper hole, and I take no issue with that, but if you're going to be a pest you can just go suck on eggs," allowing some of her piss and vinegar to come out. With some people that's all they'd respect. "Now, Rosetta, do you think in a few hours you could bring me some thick broth? Maybe some bread with honey, for incase he wakes up, otherwise I'll get him to sip some of the soup, he doesn't necessarily need to be awake for that."
"Certainly m'Lady," her friend got up, dragging Nikabrik with her.
Sighing in relief, Susan rubbed her temples. Neaten up, yes that's what she should do now, ignore that horrible aching twisting in her stomach. Taking deep breaths to keep herself steady, Susan placed Caspian's collection of carvings on the desk she'd requested earlier. Well it wasn't a 'real' desk, not to Susan at least, but it was definately more desk-like than just a sturdy table. She'd even placed neat stacks of his papers, and made a note to herself to see if she could find two baskets - for read and unread missives. Or something like that. Choking for a moment as it all overwhelmed her, she covered her mouth, a hand clutching at the corner of the table as she sank to her knees. Caspian was hurt, really hurt, and in so many more ways than she'd thought. Finding herself questioning every exchange she'd had with him, Susan tried to figure out if how she had acted towards him had made more damage.
Frankly she couldn't see how it hadn't. Yes he'd hurt her, god had he hurt her, shying away from the memory that still made her wake up in the middle of the night terrified he was coming for her again. But she'd tried to get over it, there was no changing what had happened, and while Susan was sure that horror could always happen again, somehow it didn't seem so likely anymore. Scooting so her back was against one of the desk's legs, Susan closed her eyes, wrapping her arms about herself, not even aware anymore of how the corset restricted her movements. Caspian was strong physically, his endurance was obviously astounding, almost on par with his insane ability to shove pain away - but only the physical kind. On the otherhand Susan knew what it was to have a good home, she had a strength he didn't, and it was a sudden epiphany, that knowledge. As dirty and disgusting as he made her feel sometimes, she didn't let it stop her from doing things, from trying to live, but Caspian? He was clammed up tighter than anything she'd ever come across, and each time he'd realized he'd opened up - he fled. Always fleeing. It was his only way of coping.
And she'd probably made everything worse with how she'd treated him. All the insults, all the yelling, all the accusations. But he still reached out his hand to her shyly, even if it was in the most screwed up method known to man. Still he tried, all the while she smacked it away, well - not always. Sometimes she reached back, and grabbed him close, faster than he could deal. These things had to change, time for her to be the grownup everyone treated her as. Take responsibility for him the way she did for Peter, Edmund and Lucy. Gasping for air, Susan let the jerking sobs take her, and she felt like all she ever did anymore was cry, but she had to release all this somehow. Hadn't she always told Lucy that a good cry helped?
A groan made the shakes stop immediately, and Susan scrambled over to Caspian who was waking up it seemed, "Shit... Here already...?"
"I see you have your usual sense of humour - none," Susan forced a smile as she touched his cheek.
He jerked away as though stung, eyes blazing suddenly as they popped open all the way, "Get away from me woman."
Hurt, Susan flinched, "And you're obviously in a good mood."
Caspian struggled to get up, and Susan helped him, despite his hand trying to shove her away, "I said get away from me woman!"
"No," deciding to make it difficult for him, Susan slipped behind his back, and yanked him to her so his head rested on her chest, "you're injured you know. Then again you are dumb as a rock, positively unobservant as horsepiss." Unable to stop the mocking, after all he was hurting her, and it was not in her to just be meek, "Actually rocks are more intelligent, you're more like a walnut when it comes to brain power. You know I've actually met some fairly intelligent rocks since I've been here." Caspian was sweating profusely, pushing his body when he shouldn't and Susan was getting irritated with him, "Now you listen here Caspian, you stop this foolishness at once, or I'll truss you up like I was when first brought here!"
"You... you would not dare!" enraged growling, disbelief painting his face.
"Try me Caspian," cocking her head she mulled it over aloud. "Seeing as you owe me at least a few good beatings for the stuff you've done, maybe I should give you a taste of your own hospitality?" Tapping her chin, Susan also kept the palm of one hand on the center of his chest, making it harder for him to get away, "Though I won't rape you, that'd be terrible. Plus I don't really have the right equipment. Maybe just strip you and keep you in bed for a while, hands bound? That sound's about right - I don't think anyone would notice, do you? Afterall you're gone so much lately."
"Argh!" heaving his chest and shoulders, his head snapped back almost nailing Susan in the face. "Get. Away. From. Me! I should kill you, I will kill you!"
Cradling him closer inspite of his writhing, Susan kissed his temple, pressing her face to his, "You can do it later. When you're healed Caspian. Just... relax, I'm not going to hurt you. But Iwill have someone pin you down and tie you up for me if I have to. In fact I asked a few people about it, and they thought it was a good suggestion if you were too troublesome."
One dark eye rolled back, wide as he grimaced, teeth bared, "No one will do it if I order them not to."
"Oh? You think so? A little birdie told me they had to drag you kicking and screaming from the front line, frankly I think Grilf deserves a medal," stroking his hair, which seemed to calm him, though he fought the effect. "All those men died Caspian trying to keep you safe. And here you are, ungrateful, trying to tear your wounds open. I won't allow it Caspian. There's no way I'll let their sacrifice go to waste. I can barely stand you, but I won't let you ruin everyone's chance at freedom because you're a selfish prat. I'm no soldier, I'm not one of your troops to order about. So I'll do as I please in this, because this room's my domain until you decide to reside here. Actually," nuzzling behind his ear, "I already had your things moved back here."
"What... what?" panting, fatigue catching up with him, his movements feeble. It didn't fool Susan though - he was probably just gathering strength, so she had to keep him off balance so he'd rest.
"I said I had your things moved back here, I figure if you're going to fuck me everynight, I want to at least wake up next to you," hand making slow circles on his chest, careful of his wounded shoulder. "Frankly I think I've been rather tolerant. I'm not some hussy for you to screw then leave. I demand some respect from you, and if you give it, then I'll give it back. That's how this is going to work. You're the one who started it, and I'm tired of your stupid games, so I'll damn well make sure it's finished," he was calming, whether he wanted to or not, keeping her voice low and soothing. Light and firm in one. "I'm not one of your barbarian whores Caspian, and I expect, no - I demand - you to follow through on it. So I belong to you, well that means you belong to me Caspian, at least sometimes. And you may not like it, well that's okay - I don't like you so that makes us even - but that is how things will be from now on. Fight all you want, all you'll be doing is cutting off your nose to spite your face. And how childish and weak is that? Frankly I think that's rather cowardly."
Susan had made her decision, Caspian may have forced her into this situation, but she was damn well going to see it through. Never could it be said that Susan Pevensie shirked her duties and responsibilities, and no where would it ever be implied that she didn't take charge of situations when they arose - because she was Susan Pevensie, of a nice middle class home, of a nice moral family and that was that.
"You had no right to do that," growling, trying to still her hand where it massaged the lightly defined lines of his chest, tracing a scar there.
Susan stiffened at his choiceof words, they stung, "No right to do that? Oh you listen here," pulling away from him, Susan leaned over him, pressing Caspian into the pallet, "You want to talk about someone having no right?" Baring her teeth at him the same way he was, getting down and dirty on his at times anamalistic level, "You had no right to hurt me. Not ever, no one ever gave you that ability. You just took it! Because you thought you could! Well - you had no right to tear me in half like that. Not when I was helpless and begging you to stop - you don't know what it was like, it was worse than any strike, any blow! I felt invaded in a way so personal and horrifying that you have no concept. Then you had no right at all." It was a struggle to not haul back and hit him until he knew how badly he'd hurt her. Here was her chance to tell him, and make him listen, but she hadn't wanted to do this while he was helpless to defend himself. It was apparent though that this may be her only chance, and it may be the only time he could be forced to hear her. "What's worse? The fact that you hurt me? Or the fact that later on - you forced me, took me, and made me like it. No choice, none at all - I couldn't stop you, and I couldn't stop the fact that you knew how to touch me so it felt good. All my rights as a person were taken away, you almost destroyed me Caspian. Keep threatening to kill me, that's not what I fear. That day I pretty much died, and I had to pick myself back up, put myself back together - because I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of knowing you had that power over me. And you had no right to do a lick of that to me. None."
"I had every right," but it came out soft.
"Why? Because you thought I was a spy? You're beatings were enough to find out anything you wanted to know, and those were bad enough for me." Shaking her head, Susan found herself wanting to just be held and told everything would be alright, "But you just had to take it to the next step, to prove that you had the ultimate power, something worse than life or death. I'm a good girl Caspian, I had a chance at a good life once, and you took it from me simply because you felt like it. No one has that right," getting up, Susan walked over to the table she'd worked from so often, fighting for calm. This wasn't supposed to be about her getting back at him, this wasn't supposed to be Susan's Ranting Hour. It was supposed to be helping him heal, because if he could be healed, if others could be healed - maybe she could be too. Back in Finchley Susan had wanted to be healed of loneliness and doldrum. Here, Susan had real hurts that needed mending, but she went about it the same way as always. Help others first and maybe someone will reward her by holding open arms for her to fall into and cry in. "Caspian you will lay back down this instant," firmly after several minutes, having a feeling that he'd started getting up.
"No, I am leaving. I do not wish to be in your presence," it sounded tired. "Where are my clothes?"
"If you walk out that door Caspian, it'll be naked as the day you were born," keeping her back to him, methodically shoving away everything in her mind, and focusing on her penmanship. "And when you leave the room, someone will just haul you back here. Now how humiliating will that be? Big scary Prince Caspian, Crown Prince and Heir to the Narnian-Telmarine throne, running away from a woman. Not even a woman really Caspian, I'm seventeen. Did you know that?" Licking a fingertip then leafing through a few pages of reports, "Of course you didn't, you never thought to ask. Then again you had what was it? Twenty-two years raised amongst monsters and barbarians, so of course your manners are lacking. But I'd think that a year amongst civilized people would have at least had some positive effect on you."
"Woman you are an insufferable bitch, do you know that?" dragging limp scuffs from his bare feet.
"Well what can I say? You have that effect on me," turning to look at him finally as he searched for something to wear. Susan winced and wanted to run to him, and rub her hands all over his back and hips to smooth away the scars there. The remembered pains he must have buried deep inside. "You know what hurts the worst Caspian?" He grunted, and she'd take what she could get, so she continued, "Seeing others hurt. Seeing others in pain. Any kind of pain."
"Then I shall take my leave of you once I find my clothes so you will not have to see it," pointedly.
Getting up, Susan approached him, and touched the backs of his shoulders, feeling the thick matting of scar tissue there, making Caspian jump a bit in startlement, "But I'll still know Caspian. And besides - the only clothes in this room currently are mine. Now while I'm sure you have a trim enough waist to fit into one of my dresses, I don't think the look would suit you."
Slowly he turned, looking down at her, his eyes wild, "Woman, just... leave me alone!"
Shaking her head, Susan wrapped her arms around his torso, "No. When I asked you to leave me alone - what did you do? You pestered me and bothered me ceaselessly. Well," standing on tiptoe Susan managed to kiss his chin, "time to take your own medicine. So be a big boy and come to bed with me. Please?"
"Why? Why are you doing this?" desperate, searching for some way out.
"I'll ask myself that question tomorrow, but right now, I want you to come to bed, to rest, let me... let me take care of you," helping him along.
"No, I am not some babe to be coddled," the edge was gone from his voice, but she could hear Caspian fighting to get it back.
"What will it take to get you to come to bed? It's been days Caspian, don't you... have needs?" pressing up against him, Susan wasn't experienced in the art of flirting or of seduction, and now she wished she was. Because that may be the way to get him to do what she wanted. Blushing Susan ran her fingertip over his hip, dragging it down that tendon of muscle that dipped in a V towards his groin, "I'd be glad to do anything you wanted."
God she felt brazen and whorish, but if that's what she had to be to take care of the situation - she'd use what tools she had.
Caspian's breathing sped up, but his hands clamped on her shoulders, pushing her away, though Susan could feel him hardening against her skirts, "No. You have nothing I want, and I will leave your damnable presence woman."
Biting her lip Susan thought rapidly, of course she could do what she'd threatened - truss him up like the pig he was. Well boar. He was definitely being something swine-ish right now. More so than usual. There was only so much she'd do... well no that wasn't true, she'd made her mind up and that meant she'd do pretty much anything. "Alright, how about you stay in the bed tonight? I'll just curl up with a blanket on the floor."
"Why?"
Sighing, "Because."
"Always with 'because' as an answer," Caspian snorted, his fingers twitching.
Sparing him a glance, Susan pulled out his blanket and cloak from her trunk, and went to the corner she used to sleep in millennia ago, "Go to sleep Caspian. You can have me killed after you're healed. For now I'm going to take care of you, so you might as well resign yourself to it. Oh, and Hitastik has orders to not unbolt the door from the other side unless I tell him, so - you're stuck with me for now."
Spreading out his blanket and double folding it for some bit of padding, Susan then straightened up, mucking with the ties to her dress so she wouldn't get it too dirty. Hopefully the bit of blood that was already on it would come out, but Susan doubted it. There were a few curses, then sounds of Caspian making his way to the bed, and laying down once more. Susan hid her smile of satisfaction at that, accepting the small victory. Dragging the material of her dress over her head, Susan neatly folded it, then loosened the ties on her corset, but left it on deciding to ignore the discomfort sleeping in it would bring, because it was an extra layer for warmth. Rolling herself up in Caspian's cloak, Susan inhaled his scent hungrily. At some point it had come to symbolize stability if not safety.
Laying awake, Susan watched as Caspian settled down to sleep, his good arm (good was a very relative term in this case, he'd been cut and slashed up pretty bad, and the news from Grilf was that he'd taken two arrows when initially injured, prior to the extra gashes) slung over his eyes. Sands trickled through Time's glass, and then Caspian turned his head in her direction. Susan hooded her eyes, feigning sleep. Then when he seemed satisfied she was out like a light, he rose once more, and headed to the desk with his carvings positioned over the top. His hand wrapped around one in particular, the one of her in trews that she'd found in his 'bed', and he went back to the pallet.
For a good bit of time, Susan watched as he stroked the wood, a bemused and angry look on his face. Studying him like she'd never bothered to before, Susan realized he wasn't just handsome, but he was beautiful. Not conventionally so, not like Harry Tildsten from Peter's class, but different. Raw and natural - like the forest that Morningdew took her for rides through. Wild, yes that was a good word for him. Long fingers moved over each dip and curve of the carving, sure, as though he'd done this many times.
"You know that one's my favorite," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her.
He tensed, hands trying to tuck it away, "I did not know you spoke in your sleep."
Getting up, still wrapped up in the heavy wool, her bare feet pattered on the stone, and she sat next to him on the pallet, "Then I must sleepwalk too."
"Go away," turning his head to look in the opposite direction.
"I was scared earlier," not moving any nearer to him, but wanting to see if she could show him that it was okay to open up to her. She'd open up to him so he would know. "I didn't know where you were, and I don't like you, I really don't, you're an asshole, but I did miss you. I'm used to you, and I feel... safer I suppose when you're around. The other night when you came to me, it dawned on me that you could have died." Reaching out, she tucked some of his hair behind an ear, "And that frightened me Caspian, I'm not sure why entirely, but it did. You may view that as a woman's weakness, and maybe it is, but your men fear for you as well as the female half of your troops. So, I think men have fear too, and that it's okay." Leaning over Susan kissed his temple, and started to get back up, but Caspian turned his head, in wordless request.
His hand came up, tangling in her hair, when Susan stroked his mouth with her lips, holding her to him. Caspian's tongue pushed between her lips, licking her teeth, then further in, and Susan sighed through her nose, allowing him whatever he needed to heal. Maybe one day she'd be okay if she could just help him, and possibly he may find it in himself to help her too.
"Off," he muttered, tugging at her corset, "take it off." But he didn't really allow her much space to fulfill his request, as Caspian lifted his shoulders off the bed so he could continue plundering her mouth, demanding and taking.
Fumbling Susan did as he ordered, while scooting closer to him, and once she managed to get free of it, Caspian pushed his covers off enough to reveal his manhood, thick and hard where it twitched in time to his heartbeat. Unsure of what he wanted, what he needed, Susan pulled away blushing.
Licking her lips, "Wh...what do you want me to do?"
"Suck me," his hand wrapping around the base of his cock, the other tugging on her neck, directing her down to his erection.
[REDACTED TO BE IN COMPLIANCE WITH FFN POLICY. Complete chapter resides on Archive of Our Own]
At a loss of what to do now, Susan told the good girl that was mortified by her actions this night and the fact that she'd willingly done this at all to go screw herself. Ducking her head, Susan waited, asking herself what to do now. Caspian seemed more relaxed, which was the whole point, but still. Should she get up and go back to her spot? Or should she lay next to him, cuddling up?
Whispering, "Caspian?" wincing at how shy she sounded suddenly.
"Mph, what?" his arm thrown once more over his face.
"Would you like me to go back to my corner?" hoping that by offering to do the thing she didn't want to do, he'd allow her to stay close to him.
"That would be my preference, yes," gusty sigh, "But you wish to stay here. You may, just do not touch me."
Hanging her head, Susan got up instead after recovering him with the blankets, tucking the cloak about herself as she headed back to the corner. Looked like she'd spend the night on the floor.
She could live with that for awhile.
