Chapter 7

The first thing Josephine became aware of when she slowly entered consciousness, was that she was pleasantly warm. Usually, for some odd reason, her skin was about room temperature or a few degrees cooler; at the moment, she felt toasty warm. The scent of musk and leather hit her nose in a not unpleasant way, though she did wonder where, exactly, she was that she would be smelling those things. Josephine could just make out hushed voices.

"You never told her?" A soft, lyrical, yet masculine voice whispered. Hearing the accented tone brought a waves of relief washing through her, though Josephine couldn't place who's voice it was, or why she felt so comforted hearing it.

"There was no reason to." Someone hissed back. This voice was higher pitched but older. It sounded like fallen leaves rustling against water.

Josephine tried to remember the last thing that happened to her. She had punched someone, but no, then she came home and Nana had been yelling at her. Nana! That's who the second voice belonged to.

"It would have been nice if you have at least told me. It is one of those need to know pieces of information. She is Peter's heir." The first voice snapped. Josephine had never heard Caspian sound so upset. Oh, Caspian; she remembered now that that was his voice, actually, she was surprised that she had forgotten in the first place. She let her mind wander backwards, and then everything suddenly fell into place.

Her violet eyes snapped open and Josephine took in the scene around her. She was lying on the old paisley sofa wrapped snugly in Caspian's arms, her head resting on his shoulder. He was absently drawing circles just above her hip bone with his right hand. Nana was standing before them, hands on her hips, looking quite disapprovingly at her, or him, or maybe both of them; Josephine couldn't tell beyond the fact that Nana was pissed off.

Josephine suddenly found herself very angry. What right did Nana have to mad at her? She hadn't lied about who she was like Nana had, she hadn't kept important secrets from her, like Nana had. Josephine stood up so quickly she thought she would fall backwards into Caspian, but she gripped the edge of the small wooden end table for support, while the fierce headache from rising too quickly subsided.

"You lied to me! All those times I asked who my parents were; you lied!" Streaks of red crossed over her vision.

"Josephine, calm down." Nana commanded.

"NO! Tell me, or I swear, I'll never forgive you. I will shut my eyes to you and never see nor hear you again." She wasn't sure what she was saying, but the words bubbled up from a secret place deep inside her soul. She suddenly felt a warm hand on the small of her back, making her fell slightly more calm; Josephine's vision cleared and she took a deep breath.

"Sit down, Princesita. Let your grandmother...er, your aunt explain." Caspian said in a low, calming voice.

Josephine blinked rapidly and took another deep, relaxing breath. "Fine" she snapped and collapsed in an unladylike fashion onto the sofa next to Caspian, her lightening eyes dared her newly titled aunt to say something. Phyllis sat down stiffly in her chair.

Nana opened her mouth to speak. "Your parents did not die in a car crash, though your father was killed by a train collision, a train collision that killed him and the rest of my family. You were not born in England, your were born in Narnia during the Golden Age. Josephine, your father was my brother, High King Peter the Magnificent and your mother was a fallen star named Isolde."

"A fallen star?" Josephine asked incredulously. Caspian nodded.

"Remember after we watched Stardust, I told you, stars take human form in Narnia too." She nodded.

"Your mother fell from the night sky not a year before I and my siblings left Narnia by accident. She found her way to our court and my brother became completely enamored with her. I had no idea how close they were until much later. I am assuming that she gave birth to you not much longer after we left and then raised you away from court until you were about three—for there are no records of you anywhere. After that, last of her starlight faded, though before she passed to Aslan's Place, she must have found a way to push you through the veil between the worlds. When I was sixty-nine, I finally mustered up the courage to travel to the train station were my family was killed, it was difficult you know, my life changed in a terrible way in the place, and I hadn't, up to the point, be able to face that pain. While I was there, a guard overheard me say the name 'Pevensie' and he asked if that was my name, I told him yes and he said he had something I might want to see. In the employee's lounge was a small, golden child with big purple eyes of about three years old with the name "Josephine Pevensie" sewn on the inside the nightgown she was wearing. I knew in an instant who's child you had to be."

Josephine stared, mouth hanging open, at Phyllis. She closed her mouth and blinked rapidly. "You never thought that this was sort of important for me to know? All the times, when I was younger and I asked if there was something wrong with me—why the other kids didn't like me—could it have possibly been because I'm not human!?" Out of the blue, Josephine felt Caspian's large hand on hers; he squeezed her fingers gently.

"You are human, Josephine." She locked her violet eyes on his black ones, a look of almost pleading writ in them. "Stars are just like humans, only, they live longer and are far more beautiful." At his last words, Josephine felt herself blush, and she looked away, down at their hands.

Nana cleared her throat. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but really, Josephine, how did you expect me to go about it?"

She frowned and pursed her lips. "I don't know..." finally, Josephine raised her head to look at her aunt. "Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, should I just start calling you 'Aunt Susan'?"

[~*~]

Caspian paced back and forth in the hallway below the stairs in Susan's farm house. It was Saturday night—the night he had promised Josephine that he would escort her to her Ball. The day before had been a bit uneasy and quite surprising. Susan had not informed him, either, of Josephine's unconventional parentage. The fact that she was half star explained a few things—for example her iridescent skin in the moonlight, her undeniable beauty, her strange, not quite human mannerisms. But it was the fact that she was the daughter of High King Peter that was the greatest shock to him.

By decree of Aslan and the workings of the Deep Magic, she was the hereditary High Queen of Narnia—ruler, even over himself. Though Caspian hoped he knew Josephine well enough to guess that she would formally give him the authority to rule, just as her father had done. Still, Josephine had a mind of her own and a problem with authority, so Aslan knew what would happen if she ever crossed into Narnia. Probably utter chaos and pandemonium.

At the moment, Josephine and Susan were up in Jo's bedroom, making her ready for the 'Prom'. Caspian was wearing something that Susan had called a 'Tuxedo'. It basically comprised of black pants, a white, button up shirt, a black vest with a raised black floral design, a long black jacket with a deep v-neck and three black buttons, and a black 'bow tie'. He was also wearing his black boots. Caspian had even combed his hair back, though a few strands still fell in front of his eyes—unruly as ever.

He and Susan had rented—something he would never dream of doing in Narnia—this tuxedo early on Friday, before she had received the call from Josephine's school about the fight. After much sulking on Josephine's part and much apologizing on Susan's behalf the subject of finding a gown for Josephine had finally be brought up. Susan had refused to take her niece shopping because of her 'unladylike conduct'.

"But Caspian has something to wear!"

Susan frowned for a moment, then a slow smile had spread across her aged face. "You can wear my wedding dress."

"You were married?!" the surprised, incredulous look on Josephine's face had been utterly priceless. "Are you the Queen of England too? Or a witch perhaps?Is Harry Potter going to pop out of your closet?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Josephine, sarcasm doesn't look good on anyone." Susan had then whisked her niece up the stairs and Caspian hadn't seen them since—it had been two hours.

Caspian couldn't help wounder what Josephine would look like in a wedding dress. His mind conjured images of white lace, corsets, stained glass windows and goose down bedding. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the forbidden images that had suddenly appeared there—messing his hair up even more.

He sighed inwardly and pondered why this girl was affecting him so much. She was beautiful, yes; but also funny and intelligent. Most of the women at his court, though beautiful, were only interested in sparkling jewels and gaining advantageous marriages. Josephine, though, had proved on a number of occasions that she could hold her own in a debate and knew a vast many facts about her world's literature, mythology, and culture. She reinforced his first assessment that she had the makings of a great queen.

Caspian's attention was suddenly called to the stairs again, when he heard the tell-tale sign of squeaking wood. He followed the worn, blue carpet upward with his eyes, until he reached the middle landing where the stairs made a ninety degree turn. Looking up at the woman standing before him, Caspian, King of Narnia and Telmar, lost his ability to breath for moment.

She was candle light, she was a ray of sun, she was the sun and the stars. Josephine was... "Beautiful". He whispered.

The over skirt and bodice fabric was of the most delicate gold silk brocade. Her waist was tightly cinched by, assumedly, a corset. There was a golden ribbon on her left hip at the top of a slit in the over skirt, which revealed layers upon layers of white lace. His black eyes traveled farther up to her square neckline that was lined with lace and Caspian forced himself to move his lingering gaze to the delicate three quarter length bell sleeves, edged around the cuff with the same delicate material that lined the neck. Her golden hair was piled at the back of her head in a bun and held in place with a small, gold comb. One long curl hung down in front of her shoulder, sweeping her fragile clavicle and touching the top of her bodice.

A sweet smiled broke across her face when her light eyes met his dark ones and she picked up her voluminous skirts, running down the stairs in an oddly graceful manner, only to stop a foot away from him. Josephine's smiled widened as she spun rapidly; skirts flying out, revealing her long white legs. She came to a stop, facing him. "Isn't it the most beautiful dress you've ever seen? I can't believe Auntie got married in this."

Caspian chuckled and found that Josephine was at her most radiant when she smiled like that; like the whole world was smiling with her. He took her slim, pale hand in his large, dark one and brushed his full lips over her soft knuckles. "It is quite lovely; though made more so by the lady wearing it."

A scarlet blush broke out across her face at his words and he took note of the fact that her eyes lingered over his body and face. "You don't look half bad yourself." She half teased, though Caspian could tell from her violet eyes that she meant every ounce of complement that was in her words.

"Shall we go, Princesita?" He inquired, and without waiting for a response, expertly linked her hand that he had previously been holding with his opposite arm and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go.

[~*~]

Josephine found it somewhat difficult to drive while wearing such an abundant dress; though after some experimenting she discovered the best way to do so was to pull the skirts up around her waist and across the seat. It was a slightly embarrassing position, because, after all, she was showing quite a lot of leg, but then again, the balloon of skirt hid most of that.

"So, do you know how to dance?" She inquired of Caspian, who was sitting next to her in the passenger's seat.

"Well, court dances yes. And also the dances that the Kings and Queens of Old brought with them. The Waltz, Fox Trot, Tango."

Josephine raised her pale eyebrows. "You can tango? Wow, Caspian, you're just full of surprises."

There was a small lull in the conversation before Caspian spoke again in his lyrical voice. "Susan was married? I had no idea."

Josephine smiled demurely. "Nor had I. Apparently it was before World War II, when she was really young and he died a few years later over in France."

She pulled Susan's Malibu into a parking slot about halfway back in the hotel parking lot. Before Josephine could finish shoving her keys into her small, gold purse, Caspian was on her side of the car, opening the door for her. He offered her his hand, and easily helped her slide out of the car seat. Josephine fluffed out her skirts and then smiled at him, meeting his dark, soulful eyes with her bright ones.

"Ready?"

He put on a mock serious expression and linked her arm with his. "Lead on, Princesita."

For the dance, the school had rented out a riverside ball room in the area's only four star hotel. The entrance for the room itself was on the second floor and as Josephine and Caspian were about half an hour late, they were the only people in the elevator. The look on Caspian's face when the small metallic room began to move upwards was so priceless, Josephine whipped out her digital camera and snapped his picture. Lucky for him the flash wasn't on.

"What was that?" His eyes were fixed with distrust on the slim silver box in her hand.

"Its called a camera. It takes pictures instantly." The doors slid open as the elevator made a soft 'ding'. Josephine pulled Caspian out of the small room into the marble encrusted lofted lobby. Between potted palm trees and Corinthian columns, Josephine could make out the parquet floor below and the throng of her classmates milling about in small social groups or dancing. To the left of the elevator was an elegant, wide staircase with a plush red carpet. Everything glittered with warm golden light. To her surprise, Frank Sinatra was crooning over the stereo system instead of some urban rap star.

She clasped his large hand with her small one, and looked into Caspian's face. They headed to the top of the staircase, where he stayed them for a moment. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Giving everyone a moment to admire you." He whispered back though his smile.

As they descended the stairs Josephine could hear people started to whisper; about who she was, her audacity to show up, who he was. Caspian lead her to the center of the floor and swung her into a slow waltz, the couples around followed suit in a less graceful manner, in the usual 'sway back and forth' slow dance style of high school.

"Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

If you can use some exotic booze

There's a bar in far Bombay

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away."

Caspian whirled Josephine expertly across the shiny wooden flood in perfect time with the music, stepping and twirling fast with each note; her golden skirts billowed out behind and around them. Josephine felt herself getting a bit dizzy from all the spinning, and much to her embarrassment, she stumbled slightly.

She felt his chuckled reverberate in his chest and hers seeing as they were so close their upper bodies were pressed tightly together. "Try focusing on me. It should help with dizziness." She looked up tentatively to see Caspian staring down at her, smiling.

After a moment. "So what is this dance called?" She questioned softly.

"I believe it is know as the Viennese Waltz." The song ended a moment later with another request for elopement. They stopped moving, though Caspian still held her close. Abruptly, Josephine was jostled by accident by someone in a long pink dress. She quickly stepped away from him.

After an awkward moment, Caspian spoke. "Would you like something to drink?" She nodded and they headed off to the refreshment table.

The next two hours were quite enjoyable. Caspian whirled Josephine around the parquet floor for quite a few songs. When they tired of that, Josephine found them a small grouping of overstuffed armchairs tucked away in a corner, hidden by potted plants and gold painted wooden screens. All the while, she ignored the not so surreptitious stares and whispers.

"Princesita, I know you're beautiful and especially so this night, but why does everyone in this room insist on staring at you?" Caspian asked, bemused.

Josephine felt herself blush. "Its only because I'm a social leper and as such, never show up to these things. And I usually don't wear too much makeup or do my hair for school." She framed her face with her hands for a playful moment. "And also, all the girls think you're totally gorgeous." She said pointedly.

A moment later Mr. Litz walked by, on his way to the refreshment table. He nodded at Josephine. "Evening, Miss Whitehall." Josephine nodded and waved to him. She turned back to Caspian, who was watching her cautiously.

"I though you didn't have any friends." His lyrical voice was guarded, and if Josephine didn't know better she would have said there was an edge of jealously in his voice.

Josephine laughed at his seriousness. "Oh, that's just Mr. Litz, my English teacher. He's the one that told me about your sword."

At her words the strangest expression crossed Caspian's handsome face; it was a mix between shock, elation, and anger. "What sword?" He demanded.

Confusion flitted across Josephine's exquisite face. "I thought...oh. I was going to tell you. But Nana, Susan, I mean, she sort of distracted me with...Peter, my father. I'm so sorry, it slipped my mind."

Caspian seemed to be less tense than before, but his expression was still stormy.

"So the whole time you were curling your hair, and I don't know what else, we—I, I could have been saving my kingdom?!"

"Oh Caspian..." she reached to touch his arm, but he pulled away. "I'm sorry. I didn't think of it that way..."

He stood up, towering over her. "No, you didn't think."

"Caspian!" But he was already fifteen feet away from her. "Temperamental git." She breathed to herself.


Woo. Quite a long chappy. Lots of questions answered, drama, and Caspian fluff. I got the idea for Josephine's dress from an episode of the Tudors. Somewhere in the second season, Anne Boleyn is wearing a gorgeous golden dress. Its the episode after she threatens to chop Cromwell's head off--if anyone knows what I'm talking about. Well, I hope you like it. (Maybe enough to review?) :) Don't worry, the story is going to pick up soon. Lots of trapsing about in the wilderness and such.