The Lady or the Legend

Part Two

(Caspian)

Edmund found what he was looking for in the caves. After the sketches of the Golden Age, in which Peter in his crown appeared as a recurring motif almost as much as Aslan, there was a short tale of Narnian disorder which none of us, not even Edmund understood very well. There was no mistaking the end, though. Even in those vague carvings the cruel spears of the Telmaries were visible. The pictures on the wall told a story of futile resistance. Lucy examined these with tears in her eyes, running her fingertips over the scene of a massacre. Her sighs echoed in the passage.

Edmund looked over a series and frowned. "Caspian the First only seemed to want to drive Narnia into submission," he said. "But here, they draw a new king—one can only guess it's Caspian II—and things change. It seems there was a campaign to stamp out Talking Beasts and naiads and dryads. And it looks like here they are being treated as ghosts or phantoms or the workings of madmen's minds."

I lowered my eyes. "There were things people used to say around the castle when Miraz called himself king."

"What were they?" Edmund asked, sounding very like Doctor Cornelius when he used to quiz me.

I pressed my lips together. "If people wanted to say something frightening happened, they would say 'It was as if the woods had come to life.' 'You talk as if beasts could speak' meant the speaker was certainly unbelievable and possibly a little mad. When I first fell in with the Narnians I used the phrase about the trees and I thought Nikabrik would have run me through. Even Trufflehunter looked displeased."

"Then apparently this is but the tip of the iceberg," Edmund said. "The Telmarines were worse than I thought."

"Indeed," I replied, and my voice sounded strangled.

Lucy touched my arm, but I shook her off. "It doesn't matter," I said. I took the light from Eustace and walked to the mouth of the How and huddled in the tent the servants had set up under the dripping leaves. This was my heritage. I was born a Telmarine. Could anything truly make me Narnian? Could I ever really make up a thousand years of wrongs to my kingdom? Was it even mine? Aslan told me that being a Son of Adam should make me both proud and humble, but really I felt neither. My more recent ancestors made me feel ashamed, especially when I stood myself next to Edmund and Lucy, two of the four monarchs of the Golden Age. I didn't even dare compare myself to the High King, who was everything I hoped to be but knew I wasn't.

When the others came out awhile later, I pretended to be asleep. They spent a long time talking in Lucy's tent, and I curled up miserably trying not to think of what they might be saying about me.

I must have been asleep, because the next thing I knew someone was stroking my cheek gently. I felt the touch before I understood it. Still half asleep, I sighed and inclined my head toward the caress. Then a soft voice made a noise of sympathy and I opened my eyes.

Lucy was bending over me. Her eyes were still dark, but they were gentle. She began to run her hand through my hair. "You were dreaming," she told me.

I knit my eyebrows together. "Was I? I don't remember." We were talking in those beautifully soft voices people use in the middle of the night.

She nodded, and she bent to kiss my forehead tenderly. "You poor dear," she murmured.

I reached up and pulled her to me. We kissed, and just as I was becoming enveloped by her scent and feeling the tickle of her hair on my neck, Eustace gave a great snort of a snore. We broke apart with a gasp.

She took my hands and pulled me up. "Come on," she said, leading me out of the tent. She stood looking up at the stars winking through the treetops. She didn't turn to me, but she did reach back and take my hand.

"You don't remember your dream?" she asked presently.

I looked around at the dark trees and up at the bright stars. "No," I said slowly but then a breath of wind ruffled my hair and I did remember. "I was dreaming about my mother," I said, "even though I can't remember her. She was singing to me. We were in Miraz's castle, though I suppose it was my father's then. She looked a little like your sister—I don't know why."

She rubbed my arm, and then all at once she took me in her arms. "Caspian," she murmured. "It must be so hard."

"I don't think about it too much," I answered, but my voice broke involuntarily.

"Still," she whispered, holding me tighter. I couldn't help screwing my face up and burying it in her shoulder. She stroked my hair and murmured "It's alright. It's alright," over and over again.

I wanted to let her soothe me, but something else made me pull away. I stood with my hands on my hips and looked up blinking back tears. "Where do I belong? I'm not Narnian, but I don't want to be Telmarine."

"I'm not Narnian either," she said simply.

"Maybe you weren't born here, but you are Narnian, Lucy. You and your brothers and your sister. The country says its finest hour was under your brother Peter's reign. He was High King—even now, a thousand years later, I pledged my allegiance to him."

I thought this would silence her, but she knit her brows together and stamped her foot. "Exactly! Peter wasn't born High King, he made himself great. He could have run away from his duty or he could have become a tyrant, but he didn't. You can be great too, but you must choose that path." She stepped forward and took my head in her hands. "I know it's hard for you, Caspian. I know. But that doesn't change what you have to do, nor will I let you pity yourself. You are a good man, and noble, and strong. You are young, and you have already done great things. This land loves you."

I let her kiss my forehead, my nose, my mouth, but I was thinking the whole while. "I want to go to Miraz's castle," I said. "I want to see where I came from. People say my parents were kind, that my father was a good king, but I want to know and judge for myself."

Lucy looked into my eyes and nodded. "Then I will go with you."

The next morning Edmund led us back into the How. The air in the tunnels smelled like stale rain and the rumbles of thunder outside made the place ominous. Edmund returned to where he had left off the day before, and I followed dazedly. In my head I was not seeing the tunnels of Aslan's How but the trees of the Southern Wood that black night I fled from Miraz's castle. I remembered careening on Destrier toward some unknown future. I was leaving the only home I had ever known, and the only regret I had was leaving Dr. Cornelius. Perhaps this was the difference between me and King Peter—I had never known what it was to fight for someone. All I had was the faint hope of reviving a long dead past. As I watched Lucy and Edmund in the pool of lamplight and felt Eustace beside me, however, I began to wonder if that was changing.

I spent most of the day in Eustace's company, a few steps behind Edmund and Lucy. Edmund was marveling at the carvings most of the time, but he did turn once to say "It's strange to be here when it's so quiet. I haven't been here since Peter and I came to help you, Caspian."

"At last a story I know at least partly," Eustace muttered. "That was when you were fighting your uncle, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "We used this place as a base of operations. I winded Susan's horn, and that's what called all four of them here. King Peter fought Miraz in single combat."

"What! I thought there was a battle."

"It descended to that," I said, "But it began with the High King facing Miraz for my honor. He and Edmund arrived at our worst hour. We had no food and the army was discouraged and slipping away. If they hadn't come it would have been certain defeat." I looked away into the darkness.

Eustace was quiet for a moment before he remarked "I say, Caspian, why is it that you call Edmund and Lucy by their names but you always call Peter the High King or King Peter or something like that?"

I stared at him for a moment, and ahead of us, I heard Edmund start to laugh. "He's got a fair point, Caspian. Peter is just a man after all. You needn't lionize him so—he can be a right pain in the arse when he wants to be."

Lucy swatted her brother. "Edmund! You shouldn't talk like that about Peter! It's not very kind."

"He wouldn't mind, and you know it. He'd probably say something right back."

I was very surprised to hear them talk about King Peter like this. Even though I had met him, he seemed larger than life, noble and magnificent. They made him sound—well, like a regular boy. Eustace punctuated this conversation by rubbing his chin and said "That's true. He would."

Edmund and Eustace came with us to Miraz's castle. I didn't know if I wanted Edmund there to watch me with his sharp eyes, but I couldn't very well refuse. So after a day more of examining the pictures as Edmund took copious notes, we rode south and west, toward Beaversdam.

The weather continued to be cold and damp. Little clouds of steam came from our mouths, and the mouths of the horses. Everything seemed heavy and sodden, though there was no rain. One morning we awoke to a fog so thick that when I stepped outside I could barely see the fabric of Lucy's bright tent. We were so surrounded by the white I had no way of telling what hour of the morning it was; all I knew was I was the only one up. The camp was quiet.

I was feeling so sticky despite the chill in the air that I decided to go for a bathe in the nearby stream. I reasoned that I was cold, but I couldn't really get any colder or damper and the water would feel refreshing. I grabbed a towel and a bar of soap and took the short walk with long strides.

The water was freezing, but the chill of it woke me up. I rather liked that it was so cold. It reminded me of the first days after I left Miraz, when I was walking round the woods with Trufflehunter and Trumpkin and Nikabrik. Up until then it had been hot baths and delicate meals, and I was quite the spoiled and softened prince, all my training in horsemanship and swordsmanship notwithstanding. When I found Old Narnia, I found a part of myself I didn't really know about, the part of me that loves high adventure more than soft pillows and would rather swim in a biting cold stream than luxuriate in a hot bath.

I stayed in the water until I couldn't feel the tips of my fingers, then I got out and dried off. I thought it was still early, so naturally I jumped a mile when I heard a rustling in the bushes. I didn't know whether I should concentrate on keeping the towel around me or if I should scramble for my sword, and I was just trying to make this decision when Lucy came through the brake carrying a bucket. I stared at her in open-mouthed surprise.

She didn't notice me at first; she knelt and filled the bucket. She was wearing her hair in simple braids which hung over her shoulders, exactly like she wore when I fished her out of the sea and she came aboard the Dawn Treader. I liked that she didn't care about dressing her hair and the proper combs when she was in the woods. I remembered that with Renna I couldn't ride half a furlong without her stopping to adjust her hair and make sure all the pins were in place, which was intensely frustrating. What's more, the old braids reminded me of falling in love with the Queen adventurous, who kissed dragons and braved strange magicians.

When the bucket was full, she stood up and pushed the hair off her forehead. As she turned to go to camp, she caught sight of me watching her. "Caspian," she said with a smile. "What are you doing up so early?"

I shrugged and rubbed my arm. The air was starting to feel cold, but I couldn't very well get dressed with her right there. She stared at me so closely that I became quite aware of the fact that I was naked from the waist up. She set the bucket down and took a step toward me. I didn't move.

She crossed the distance between us, her eyes traveling over me so intently that I almost felt that she was touching me, and I certainly wanted her to. She was just reaching her hand up to lay it on my shoulder and just tilting her head to kiss me when Eustace called "Lucy! Have you got the water yet? We need it for breakfast, and I'm starving!"

We sprang away from each other and turned just as Eustace tumbled out of the foliage. "Hello, Eustace," she said, and though she tried to keep her voice smooth, she spoke a little breathlessly. "The bucket's over there."

He raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be carrying it back to camp?"

I frowned at him, but he merely shrugged and reached for the handle. Lucy scrambled forward. "I'll take it," she said. "We'll, um…we'll leave Caspian to get dressed."

Eustace snorted. "As if you would have left him if I hadn't come along."

"Eustace!" I said sternly. "Don't make suggestions about Lucy's honor like that." Even before he cast his backward glance at me I felt the hypocrisy of my words. I didn't want him to say anything about her honor but I almost certainly would have taken it away. Lucy grabbed the bucket and disappeared through the trees without another glance in my direction. I got dressed slowly, thinking about what Peter and Edmund might have said had either of them caught me with their sister, and I felt a bite of shame.

The following day we rode through showers all morning and the wet gray air clung to us as it had been, frigid and sticky. Our horses plodded through the mud, and their hooves made sucking sounds every time they lifted them. The world was quiet.

Then we came to the top of a hill. There was a break in the clouds ahead, and the sun was pouring into the valley below, so much and so golden it was like a liquid. The hills were a soft, fresh green, so bring the very color was alive, and a sweet, free smell filled the air. The horses' hooves now clopped a little on the firmer ground.

Lucy gripped my arm. "Look! Can you see? A whole field of daffodils. It's really spring." I watched with a grin as she clicked her tongue and her horse took off at a gallop.

"Where are you going?" Eustace shouted after her.

"I'll meet you at camp!" she called over her shoulder.

I felt a little burst of excitement in my chest, and I raced off after her. I vaguely heard Eustace cry "Not you too!" but already the wind was loud in my ears.

When Lucy heard me giving chase, she glanced back at me with a grin and urged her horse on faster. I rode as hard as I could, and eventually I drew level with her. Then my horse's neck inched past hers and I cut her off at the edge of the flowers. We both sat grinning at each other and breathing hard.

She dismounted and left the horse to graze while she went among the daffodils, which rose to her waist and were the color of her hair. She almost looked like one of them in her green dress. I jumped off my horse and followed her. She walked ahead of me pretending she didn't know I was following, and she didn't stop or turn. I couldn't stop smiling.

Finally she looked to her side as her fingers grazed flower petals, and then she glanced back at me for a brief, alluring second. I ran forward and tickled her, and she struggled and shrieked with laughter. We fell to the ground. Then she began to tickle me, and soon I was gasping with laughter as much as her. We laughed until I couldn't breathe and my sides ached. She sat grinning, gasping for air herself. After a moment, she grew a little pensive.

Lucy lay back in the grass, her hair fanning out behind her and flowing over her shoulders and her skirts spreading out like flower petals at her feet. She had picked a small white flower which grew in the grass near the daffodils, and she twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. I stretched out on my side next to her, propping myself up on my elbow so I could look down at her. I dared to rest my hand on her stomach, and the rhythmic rise and fall with her breath was soothing and exciting all at once.

She looked up at me and tucked the flower behind my ear. "Suppose that we only had so many kisses. When would you use them, and how?"

I searched her face, trying to memorize it. Just in case she was right.

She laughed softly. "Don't look so serious, dear. It's only a game. I won't leave you." She traced the contour of my face with the tips of her fingers, and then, after a moment, she pulled herself up and kissed me. Then, while we were kissing she lay back on the grass again and pulled me to her. We were close at last, as close as I had longed to be.

She kissed me for a long time, long and deep and slow. When she finally pulled away she looked directly into my eyes. "Caspian," she said a little breathlessly "Would you—I want you to be with me."

I froze. "Are you sure?"

She ran one hand up and down my arm while with the other she twisted the hair at the nape of my neck. I shivered, completely helpless to her for a moment. "I'm sure," she said. "I never have before, but I want to know. I want to know what it's like to lie with you."

"Here? Now?" I was stalling, but at the same time the idea was tantalizing. I let myself imagine for just a second, and then I forgot myself and slipped my arm underneath her and kissed her neck, down to her collarbone, to the neckline of her dress. I let my hand, which was on her waist, travel upwards to her rib cage. I hesitated there, but then she covered my hand with hers and guided me.

She ran her fingers through my hair and pressed me to her. "Oh," she cried softly, "Oh, Caspian."

The way she said my name brought me back to myself. I raised my head and looked into her eyes, her clear, steady eyes which were now shining with desire. She knit her eyebrows together. "What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head. "I can't. I can't do this to you, Lucy."

She pushed me off her and sat up at once, looking suspicious and hurt. "Why not?" she challenged.

"Because! It wasn't supposed to be like this. On the Dawn Treader it was better. I was happy just to be with you. I didn't care about this—if you held my hand that was enough."

"Of course it was! I was a child then!" She inched forward on her knees and took my face in her hands. "But I'm not anymore."

She moved to kiss me, but I pulled away. "You don't understand," I said. "When I loved you then, I wanted it to be like that always. I wanted to rush up to you and take your hands in mine and hear you say exactly what I had been thinking. I didn't want us to be common."

"But what would happen to us? Could we go on like children forever?" She searched my eyes and touched my chest with her fingertips. "Is wanting you really so very wrong and so base?"

"No…" I said slowly. "It's different, though. And if you gave me the choice between having you bodily and what we had on the Dawn Treader, well, I would take the latter. That was how I fell in love with you."

She cast her eyes downward, then looked at me. "Why is it one or the other? I don't see that there has to be a choice." She brushed my lips with hers.

"But there is," I protested. "We are different together, like this. You are different."

She drew away at once and looked at me with severe eyes. "There it is. You are no better than my brothers. You would keep me a child. Preserve my innocence. My sacred innocence."

"No, that's not quite right."

Tears sprang to her eyes now. "What is it then? Don't you want me, Caspian?"

I was so surprised to hear her ask this I was dumbstruck for a moment. She looked at me with hard eyes, and got up saying "You look at me like that and I know you do, but then I think how can you? I am asking for you and you back away. You say you want what we had on the Dawn Treader, and maybe if I had not come back from the very edge of the world, we would have remained crystallized like that forever. But I did come back, and now I am growing up. It won't ever be exactly like that again, but it can be close. You can see that we are surrounded by flowers, but not the white lilies of the Silver Sea. Life is real here, Caspian, and I am real. You have to decide if you are in love with me or the idea of me." She strode back to the horses, leaving me frustrated in every way.

That night I took my blankets and slept under the stars. I tried to stay awake and think about what Lucy had said to me, but my eyes soon closed in spite of myself.

The Silver Sea spread all around the ship, and the entire crew was assembled on the deck of the Dawn Treader. Lucy was holding my hand watching Edmund and Eustace and Reepicheep settle themselves in the boat. Then she let go my hand and climbed in herself. I felt a choke like I was going to cry, yet at the same time I felt used up from crying already. I wanted to call out to her, but just as I opened my mouth, Drinian cried "Shields and flags out!" and they began to lower the boat. I rushed to the railings and leaned over as far as I could, waving and waving. Lucy looked straight into my face and called her goodbyes until the boat touched among the lilies. Then the current drew them all away from me. I hung over the sides watching Reepicheep's dark fur and Lucy's hair shining above the lilies. Before they had quite disappeared, the ship started to turn. I wanted to tell them to wait, that they were coming back, but I couldn't form the words. And then, as I looked back to watch the boat disappear on the horizon, I knew they wouldn't return. They were going to the end of the world, and I was left behind. Lucy was simply slipping out of my life as quickly as she came into it. I would return to Cair Paravel alone, and I saw my life flash forward—a wedding to a woman with silver hair and dressed in blue, a baby—a boy, my boy. He grew into a Prince and was almost a man. He appeared one day bearing his mother's body: she was dead. Drinian appeared before me telling me my son—Rilian—was lost. I never saw Edmund or Lucy or Eustace again. Even in these flashes of life, the silver haired woman and the boy, both of whom brought some faint impression of comfort, never reappeared. I was quite alone, and all I had was an echoing memory of Lucy's laughter.

I sat bolt upright. The dream still hung about me, clear as if it could have been real, and I thanked Aslan that it wasn't. I got up at once and pushed apart the flaps of Lucy's tent. She was sleeping peacefully, resting her cheek on her hands. I laid myself next to her and kissed her. She returned the kiss before she was fully awake and when I drew away she blinked, slightly bemused.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I love you. I want you."

She held me close. "Caspian, dear, you're shaking. Whatever happened?"

I looked into her eyes. "I dreamt you sailed to the end of the world, and you never came back. I saw my life without you. I was so lonely."

"Hush. It was all a dream. It isn't real. I'm here," she murmured, stroking my hair, my back.

"Stay with me, Lucy. Stay with me forever." I realized after I had spoken what I was asking of her, but I found I didn't want to take it back. She pulled back and looked into my eyes for a long moment. I saw that she understood. She nodded with a look that said plainly to me "I will. I promise," and then she kissed me and pulled me close.