Excerpt From the Diary of Lt. Daniel Pevensie

Nov 29, 1944

The rest of my household lies resting. It is nearly an hour past midnight but I feel as though dawn has just broken. All is right in my world for the first time in longer than I can remember.

I've just finished walking from room to room checking on my children. All of my children. My family has welcomed Caspian with open arms. When I opened the door to Edmund's old room, which Miriam told me he gave up voluntarily the day they received my letter, I found Caspian sleeping with a large stuffed mouse, which I can only assume belongs to Lucy, resting on his chest.

Susan and Lucy were asleep when I checked their rooms as well, though Peter and Edmund were awake. I heard them whispering before I opened the door. At its first creak they immediately feigned sleep. I did not let them know that I knew they were pretending. I did not want to have a conversation which might cause them to lose sleep, even though I can't bear to fall into slumber myself. I have dreamed of coming home and finding things this perfect so many times, but to be here, awake, surrounded by those I love, is so much better. Even if I were to fall asleep and dream of things exactly as they are right now, down to the last detail, the reality is so much better. I'd much rather sit like this forever, in the knowledge that I am awake and this is real than to dream the sweetest dream ever dreamt.

Chapter Nine

"Susan, wake up."

Susan groaned and rolled over, trying to cling to the dream that was quickly fleeting. In her mind she could still see Caspian dressed in a modern soldier's uniform lifting her hand. She could almost feel the butterfly softy touch of his lips against her knuckles, could almost smell hay and leather and sunshine all blended together to form that sweet scent that saturated his hair.

"Susan."

"Go away," she murmured.

"I can't do that," Peter told her. "Come on, get up. We need to talk . . . before Caspian wakes up."

At that Susan's eyes snapped open and she sat up so fast that only reflexes honed in battle saved Peter from the pain of their foreheads colliding.

"It truly happened?" Susan demanded, oblivious to how close she'd come to giving them both headaches. "Caspian is really here?"

Peter smiled. "You thought it a dream too?" When she nodded he gave a cheerful laugh. "Even when I woke up and saw Ed in the nest of blankets he's set up in my room I still couldn't believe it either. I had to go and check with my own eyes that he was here – though I don't advise you to. If Mum were to see she'd be very put off and who knows what Dad would do?"

"Do you think Dad knows?" Susan asked. "How much do you think Caspian told him?"

Her brother shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Last night Caspian made it sound as though Dad saw him come into our world, but that doesn't mean Dad knows just what he saw. We're going to have to . . . well, coordinate, I guess, and find out just what happened and what he knows before we tell Dad anything. Otherwise . . ."

"He might send Caspian away." Susan hated the thought but knew it was a likely possibility.

"Or think us mad and have us locked up in an asylum," Edmund said from the door. "Either way, the results are undesirable."

"So we keep up the act from last night just like before," Lucy piped in. "Until we have a chance to get the story straight with Caspian."

"We should let him sleep," Susan said with a yawn. "He looked very . . . tired last night."

"He looked very heartbroken last night," Lucy corrected as she perched herself on the edge of Susan's bed. "You were a beast to him, Susan."

"I know," Susan told them. "I feel awful."

"Well you should," Lucy said firmly. "You must remember that even though it hasn't been two years since you last saw him, he's lived a full lifetime and probably spent more time being sad than we've spent alive even if you count our years in Narnia."

Susan hung her head.

"That's enough, Lu," Peter said. His voice was not unkind but it was firm. "None of us were quite prepared for last night. We've all had time to think about what his being here means and our heads are all clearer this morning."

"Sorry Susan," Lucy said quickly.

"You spoke the truth," Susan told her. She paused. "Do you think . . . do you think he's going to be all right?"

"I think he already is all right," Edmund said. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it.

"But he lost everything," Susan whispered.

"He's stronger than you give him credit for," Edmund insisted. "And I'd wager that Aslan's given him back as much as he's lost, if not more."

"Eustace did say he got to see his son before he died," Lucy reminded her. "And now he's got his youth back too . . . as well as a chance to be with someone who will love him until death do they part and after."

Susan shook her head. "He has a wife, Lucy."

"Had a wife," Lucy corrected.

"Apparently death annuls marriage," Edmund added.

"And his son?" Susan demanded.

"As long as you don't mind a stepson, how is it an issue?"

"Well what about the fact that he is 60 years older than me?"

Peter decided to put in his two bits. "It's not as bad as 1300."

"Besides, your math is off," Edmund told her. "If you take into account that –"

"That's not the point!" Susan flung her arms up in frustration. "He lived a full life. He moved on a long time ago. He and I –"

"Have a second chance," Lucy cut her off. "You shouldn't waste it."

"He put me from his mind long ago," Susan tried to tell them. "There's no reason he –"

"You obviously didn't see the way he was looking at you last night," Edmund said.

"Enough, all you," Peter said finally. "Susan has quite a bit more to think about than any of us where Caspian's concerned. She doesn't have to have it all figured out right now."

Susan shot her oldest brother a grateful look.

"Could the two of you please let Susan and I talk alone for a few minutes?" Peter asked. "I don't remember calling a council."

Edmund nodded and eased the door open. Lucy hesitated for a moment before following and closing the door behind her.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked, once their younger siblings' footsteps had died away.

"I don't know." Susan swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled her robe on over her nightgown. "I don't think I've quite been able to convince myself that this is really happening."

"And have you figured out how you feel about him?"

She shook her head miserably.

"You don't have to rush this," Peter said, sitting down beside her. "Try to see things the way they really are instead of just seeing them the way they seem."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well . . ." Peter scratched the back of his head in a slightly self-conscious manner. "Let's look at the time thing again. I mean . . . how much time have the two of you really spent together?"

"Well, when we parted I suppose we'd only known each other about a week." Susan wrung her hands as she realized just how absurd that sounded. "But it wasn't . . . we weren't merely . . ." She shook her head again and resisted the urge to moan in frustration. "There was something between us. Something that –"

Peter held up a hand to silence her. "I know. I could see it. We all could. And if you don't mind me saying so . . . I think whatever it was is still there."

Susan managed a wry smile at that. "I was rather afraid of that."

"It does complicate the issue." Peter looked as though he was about to sigh, but changed his mind. "But let's continue to put it in perspective. How much time has passed since you parted?"

"Not quite two years for me. Fifty or more for him if he was as old as Eustace thought he was."

Peter nodded. "Like Lucy said, he's lived a lifetime. I don't think he'll feel the need to rush into anything . . ."

That was true, Susan realized, and suddenly it was much easier to breathe. "I've been being silly, haven't I?"

"No," Peter said earnestly. "You got a rather big shock. We all did." A rueful smile crept over his face. "Caspian showing up on our doorstep was one of the very last things I ever expected to happen. But I'm glad he did."

"Me too," Susan told him. She hadn't realized just how true those words were until she spoke them.

A soft knock on the door interrupted them.

"Yes?" Susan called, tying the belt of her robe and standing.

The door opened a crack and Edmund peeked in. "I thought you'd want to know that Caspian just woke up. Lucy's gone down to the kitchen to start breakfast – Mum and Dad aren't up yet."

"But it's nearly midmorning." Susan frowned at the sun streaming through the window.

"Yeah." Susan missed the look of discomfort that crossed Edmund's face.

"What on earth could they be doing?" she wondered out loud.

"I'm trying not to think about it actually," Edmund said with a shudder and closed the door.

Susan blinked and then it came to her. "Oh." She covered her mouth to hide her embarrassment.

Peter shook his head. "I'll just go wait in the kitchen," he said and hurried after his brother.

X X X

When Caspian awoke he blinked against the haze of golden light that streamed into the room and took a deep breath. Then he clenched those of his teeth that remained and braced one hand against the mattress to help him sit up, waiting for the pain in his back to flare up and the scars on his stomach and side to start aching as his skin and muscles stretched them.

Even after nearly a month it still came as a surprise that his body was completely devoid of aches and pains. For only the briefest of moments he was confused, then memory came flooding back to him and the same ecstatic smile that graced his face every morning crept back into place. The previous night's frustration and sorrow seemed so foreign now that it was morning and everything was so bright. There was so much to marvel at. He was in the land of the Kings and Queens of Old. His friends had been restored to him – or perhaps it was more that he had been restored to his friends. Either way, they were together again and they all had their youth and health and Caspian had never felt so carefree in his life.

He shifted so that he could stand, but something fell from the bed which caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he picked up the item that had fallen to the floor. It was a sort of doll shaped like a mouse, with a long thin cord for a tail and a headband with a red feather in it sewn around its head.

"Have we met before?" Caspian asked the toy, grinning unabashedly.

"Caspian? Are you awake?" said a familiar voice just outside his door.

"Yes," he answered immediately and the door opened. Lucy and Edmund peeked inside hesitantly, and if it was possible, Caspian's smile grew even brighter. He turned toward them and held out his arms slightly. That was all the invitation Lucy needed. She bolted inside and jumped at Caspian. He caught the young queen and spun her around twice before setting her down. "Good morning, Queen Lucy. Good morning, King Edmund."

"Why so formal?" Edmund asked as he stepped into the room, but there was no trace of irritation or discontent in his face.

"Why not?" Caspian returned.

"Fair point," Edmund conceded. He stepped forward to clasp Caspian's hand. "Sleep all right?"

"Wonderfully," Caspian answered. He picked up the mouse doll which he'd dropped when he'd lifted Lucy and went down on one knee to hand it back to her. "It is good to know I was well guarded as I slept."

Lucy giggled like the child she appeared to be and hugged Caspian again, ignoring the toy. When she stepped back, however, her face was different. Caspian could see a sort or wrongness in it – not to say there was anything wrong with Lucy or that at that moment she was anything other than radiantly happy. It only took Caspian a moment to realize what it was he'd thought was off. There was wisdom in Lucy's face. She knew things no mere child could have known. She'd seen pain and known loss and knew how quickly the wheel of fortune could turn and topple someone then crush them beneath it as it rolled over them, but that knowledge didn't diminish the joy she was feeling at that moment. She knew how to cherish.

A glance at Edmund revealed that same wisdom, and had Caspian been able to see his reflection, he would have seen it in his own face as well.

"Are you hungry?" Lucy asked. "How does breakfast sound?"

"Excellent."

"I'll go get it started. Come down to the kitchen as soon as you're ready." Lucy didn't so much spin as twirl toward the door then shot into the hall like an arrow.

"Don't let Mum catch you cooking without supervision," Edmund said before she could get too far. "The last thing you want is to land extra chores today of all days."

"You'd help me if I did, but I won't," Lucy said wickedly. "Mum and Dad are still in bed."

Edmund closed his eyes. "This is true," he said and then Lucy was gone. "Well," he told Caspian, "I'll leave you to finish getting ready. See you over breakfast."

Caspian tucked his shirttails into his trousers, put on a pair of stockings, and ran a comb through his hair before heading downstairs. Lucy, Edmund, and Peter were already there, Edmund in his seat from the night before while Lucy and Peter stood before the stove, making full use of the wonder that was electricity to cook eggs. He started to wander over to watch but Edmund motioned him toward the table.

"They don't need any more help," he said, tapping his fingers on the table top, looking slightly bored.

"I wanted to watch," Caspian explained and looking longingly toward the stove.

"You want to watch them fry eggs?"

Caspian nodded.

The corner of Edmund's mouth turned upward. "Well then, by all means . . ." He gave a slight bow even though he was still seated.

"Sorry Caspian, we've just finished," Lucy apologized, turning away from the stove. She skipped nimbly out of Peter's way as he carried a large pan full of scrambled eggs and potatoes to the table.

"Perhaps another day," Caspian said, not too put out. Edmund nodded to the chair that Caspian had used the previous night so Caspian sat. Lucy pulled the stool she'd sat on the night before away from the table then hopped into the chair Susan had occupied. Peter started to sit down between them but Lucy gave a loud, throaty cough, and Peter suddenly changed his mind and sat on the other side of Edmund.

"Have a decent night's rest, Caspian?" Peter asked as Lucy began serving everyone.

"I slept very soundly, thank you," Caspian answered, "and I like your world very much."

That caused some raised eyebrows from his friends, which Caspian didn't quite understand but he didn't have time to dwell on it for at that moment Susan entered. He quickly stood up, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste to show proper respect.

Susan paused, her eyes seeking out Caspian's. He only managed to hold her gaze for a moment before he had to look away, remembering her anger the previous night. He still didn't think it had been justified, but he had no desire to ruin the day by starting it off with a fight.

"You don't need to do that, you know," Peter told him.

"I'm sorry? What?"

"Stand when a woman enters a room," Edmund explained. "No one will think you're chivalrous or well mannered – they'll just think you're weird."

"Edmund," Lucy admonished.

"Sorry, but it's true, mate." Edmund grabbed a hold of Caspian's sleeve and pulled him back down. Caspian didn't resist.

"Good morning, Caspian," Susan said softly. She hesitated for a moment then sat down in the empty seat between him and Lucy.

"Good morning, Queen Susan," Caspian returned.

"You can't go around doing that either, by the way," Edmund stated. "Not unless you want people thinking you're mental."

"Mental?"

"Mad," Peter translated.

"We're not royalty here," Susan added. Caspian didn't look at her but could almost feel her eyes burning into him like blue flames. "You must only refer to us by our real names and not our titles."

"As you wish," Caspian acquiesced. Then he forced aside his trepidations. "But you must call me Caspian. Not that horrendous anagram your father's commanding officer contrived."

"Ian Casp," Peter said, laughter in his voice.

"Yes, High King?" Caspian asked, turning toward his friend and letting his own amusement show.

"All right, point taken. We won't call you that if you won't call us by our titles."

Caspian nodded. "I accept those terms."

"Then that's one thing that's been decided," stated Edmund. "Perhaps we can now move to the important issue?"

"Right," Peter agreed, suddenly growing serious.

"Is something wrong?" Caspian asked, worried. He hoped he had not somehow given offense. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Peter said quickly. "Nothing's wrong. We just need to know . . . what all did you tell our dad? How much about Narnia does he know?"

End of Chapter Nine

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Than you everyone who reviewed, including: zanessa229-6968, SongOfRoland, Greyhound Master RID3RLVR, ray1, flyingxdragonx123, breebree33, garnetred, Queen Red Rum, Amazing Blui, Solitarie42

RleFay, lizz22463, Satan's Spawn1293, kimidragon, mars'mallows – I'm glad you're all curious about how things are going to play out between Susan and Caspian, and I hope I manage to work it out in a way that will be acceptable to everyone. Right now Chapter 11 is slated to have the two of them straighten a few things out. I don't want to give too much away and spoil it for you, but just remember the belief that Caspian shared with Mr. Pevensie at the end of Chapter 3 – real love doesn't change.

Fegli and cali-chan – The journal entries aren't going to stop, but now that several chapters are taking place within the same day, they're going to be interspersed with interludes and relevant flashbacks that will (hopefully) pull the whole story together.

Miniver – Do you think I could make Jadis hold attention better by having her commit more acts of random violence or less violence but more malignant premeditation? Or some other way? I'm always looking for ways to improve my villains. And I wish Lewis had done a little more by way of developing his characters in our world too. The whole point of having them go on adventures in Narnia was supposedly so that they could live better in their world, but I never felt that he really showed it . . . And was it just me, or did anyone else keep expecting someone in the movie to shout "This is Narnia!" especially during that battlefield scene where the ground collapses and people kept getting knocked down into the pit?

cali-chan (again, lol) – Thanks, once again, for all your insight. Your comments help me see a lot of things I didn't think of before and I'm always very grateful for them.

Draco Lover3 – Yeah, wait 'til Jadis realizes she can get at both those little fishes! Poor Caspian? Oh, you have no idea . . .

Also, Historical Note: By calling Jadis' want the Spear of Destiny I'm not trying to say that it's THE Spear of Destiny, the real one which pierced Christ's side. I'm one of the people who believe that either that spearhead was melted down to form Charlemagne's sword since, as far as cryto-history goes, that makes the most sense, or it fell into the possession of the Templers who hid it when their persecution began. The title of the last chapter's interlude was a subtle dig at Hitler for believing that a spear he found in a museum (which allegedly had little gold crosses around the base) was THE Spear of Destiny. Because obviously common Roman foot soldiers are going have gold on their spears and the foresight to know that the cross is going to become an important religious symbol. There have been several weapons throughout history that have been taken to be the Spear of Destiny or the Spear of Longinus. Obviously Jadis' wand isn't the real one, though I don't think it's too hard to see how someone could mistake it for that. Sorry if I confused anyone!

Next chapter should be up tomorrow. Thanks for reading!