Caspian eased back, his hand still wrapped tightly about Susan's hand. Releasing it, Caspian stared at his palm. Sometimes he thought his limbs no longer belonged to him. Regaining his feet, he sheathed the sword he'd taken out earlier, ready for quick use. He had knelt next to Susan to gain one last taste of her lips, and then he was sidetracked by touching her face with his eyes. Which had been quickly replaced with his lips, that hadn't woken her up, but the tickling of his finger near her nose had probably done it as he switched from his caresses with his lips to that of his fingers. Turning his back, Caspian wondered at himself and how far he had fallen.
Well this was not going to happen again, how many attempts had he made? And just as many times the simplest things thwarted him. He wondered if she knew how close she'd been to death the last few days, that she had smiled at it, and held its hand. Kissed it. Spoken with it. Yet she'd stood her ground, continually putting her life directly in his hands, telling him not in so many words, that it was his to do with as he wished. But also saying in plain speech that echoed still in his mind, she knew, just as the sun rose each morning, that he would be her death. And still, and still in his hands she had gratefully put her life, as though he were the only one capable of keeping it safe. A brief thought that maybe she was not delillyum flitted through his mind, but that the comparison was more apt for himself than Susan. The thought vaguely amused him.
Watching her had made for an odd sensation in his stomach and chest, the knowledge that she kept giving him her acceptance while completely aware of what he was, and what he would do, haunting him. It had given rise to his actions this night, soothing her back into rest, relishing the fact that she was his possession. His rare and beautiful flower, that he kept for himself, and could destroy at any time. So he'd spared her tonight.
Sleep had been eluding him until he would collapse in exhaustion over the last nine days. The entire time spent awake, he'd plot how to kill Susan, and with a start he'd stopped thinking of her as an entrantress once more. Cocking his head, Caspian glanced over his shoulder at her, frowning. He'd actually not gotten any sleep in what was now running on three days. Oddly it seemed his mind would clear after a certain point, allowing him to see past the constant pain in his head, that thundered and battered at him and had done so since a few days before his decision to kill her had taken place. Of course forgetting that the headaches had been going on for more than a year. And with his incredibly alert senses he realized how absurd his fear had been. Susan was just a woman, a girl really, who had rapidly become a woman. Nigh on five months she had been here, by his side and he'd seen no witchery beyond that of her smile.
So, there was no real reason to kill her out of hand. She was no actual threat, no more than any woman. Probably less even, because she may still be cheeky and demanding, but she had settled into a position that was well enough by him. Deciding against leaving, Caspian unslung his swordbelt, and removed his jerkin, then lay down over the covers, watching Susan sleep. She rested peacefully and unconsciously moved nearer him, a tiny smile curving her full lips. He had become her everything he knew. The anchor that gave her reason - which was as it should be. Yes, definitely as it should be.
"Caspian! Oh I didn't see you there!" Susan smiled up at him, always smiled, even when he could see the wariness.
It reminded him that he was the one in control. And he liked that. Things were well if she remembered that.
Steadying her with a hand on her elbow, "I saw that there were no pointy objects nearby so I felt it appropriate."
She blinked then laughed a bit, "You're in a good mood today." Swaying nearer to him before realizing it, Susan took a step back then, blushing under his heavy gaze, "Can I do anything for you?"
"What are you doing right now?" offering her his arm, which she took reflexively. Inside Caspian crowed victory - little signs that Susan knew she belonged to him and only to him, and lived only to serve him and his various needs, cropped up like mushrooms on shit after a rain.
Adjusting her skirts, then moving closer to him as she walked, "I was going to go speak with Morningdew. But it can wait."
Raising a brow, "You spend much time with her."
"She's wonderful, she says she can teach me to shoot from a moving target," excited.
"From horseback is difficult," and he frowned, "But you are not allowed to practice outside of my presence."
Susan shifted about, "Then allow me to point out the fact that not that long ago you told me to go practice with Morningdew."
"I said no such-" then pausing, and Caspian remembered that he had in fact said exactly that. But for entirely different reasons, "That was earlier."
"Oh," Susan looked disappointed, then shrugged it off, "well then I can just throw pebbles."
"Pebbles are hardly difficult to throw," guiding her towards Destrier's box. Clucking at his longtime friend, probably the only one he'd ever had, Caspian then slipped free of Susan, and climbed into the stall, the horse wuffling at him happily. The stallion was rarely startled, particularly when Caspian's scent was in the air, and after a little patting and scratching, Caspian started saddling the steed.
"Yes well, it would teach me how to do it in principle, plus you can't protest it, after all, 'pebbles are hardly difficult to throw'," as she leaned over the gate.
Lifting the saddle onto the equine back, "I can protest anything I please."
Susan made an unladylike noise, "Then I suppose that's exactly what you'll do. Fine, you killjoy."
"I did not say that you could not do it, now did I?" fastening the cinch and checking Destrier over one last time, then got the last parts of the tack settled, "Now, do you remember how to get into the saddle?"
"Um, I've only been on a hose once mister," backing away from the gate as he opened it, Destrier following docile as a dog, "and if I remember correctly it wasn't for a pleasure stroll. In fact - the result was downright atrocious."
"That is not how I recall it, I recall you enjoyed yourself thoroughly," Caspian held the reins loose in one hand, while his other arm wrapped around Susan, dragging her into his chest so he could feel her pressed up against him.
Ducking her head, looking off to the side, "That wasn't what I was talking about. I was talking about almost falling off that thing. Repeatedly."
Releasing her, Caspian motioned for her to walk beside him, "Then see that you do not this time."
"Shit," Susan put her face in a palm then squared her shoulders as though she were going to the gallows.
The image was so humorous he couldn't help a laugh.
He didn't see Susan's delighted smile, nor everyone else's startled glances in his direction.
XXX
Caspian found once more that the headaches had all but stopped since he'd decided to take pleasure in the fact that he could be rid of Susan at any point he wished. But she was definitely an enjoyable thing, and such things were not to be wasted. Much like the delillyum flower's scent and loveliness, it should be reveled in, while keeping the knowledge that once it became too much of an annoyance it could be destroyed. And of course one took care of wonderful possessions, and Caspian had found Susan required very little. His little flower just wished for a bit of daily attention that was as good for him as for her, and some freedoms. That was simple enough.
Now he was looking for her again, her bow and quiver over his own back and he wondered if he was still any good with the weapon. Frankly he preferred steel in his hands, or maybe a crossbow, but he did admire the skill necessary to wield the tricky thing. Already he had checked their room, then the washing rooms, then the smithy where she would talk with the various dwarves, or the kitchens (he'd found out the hard way that she didn't know a thing about cooking with the sorts of equipment here, and only made a mess - the food hadn't been very good that day, giving him terrible indigestion despite his cast iron stomach), or anywhere else he could think to look.
Rapidly he became irritated, she had places she was supposed to be, so that he could find her with ease. Muscle jumping in his jaw, Caspian got a hold of his temper. First to find her, and discover if there was a good reason for the difficulty in finding her (and there were no good reasons that came to mind), and then what sort of punishment she deserved. Scanning one of the large workrooms, hot, dusty, and drafty in one, looking for someone useful.
Approaching one of the Tigers Susan had befriended (really there was no such thing as a Narnian that wasn't her friend though), "Sir Tiger, good day to you."
Great head turned to look at him, then a purr as he bowed, "And a good day to you, Your Highness. Is there aught this humble servant can do for you?"
"Yes," nodding, finally recalling the Tiger's name, "Sir Jiroon, perhaps you have spied Susan this day?"
"No Your Highness, I haven't, but," shifting to sit on his hind-legs, tail tucking around his forepaws, "I could find her if you wish."
Not one to accept help generally, but the Tiger's nose would come in handy, "That would be beneficial."
"Of course Your Highness," and Caspian couldn't be sure, but thought Jiroon sounded somewhat amused.
Susan had a bad feeling. Normally she didn't visit the Stone Table during the day, only in the middle of night generally. But today she had felt the urge to gaze upon the carving of Aslan, because the sight of Him had become something as soothing as the way she felt when in church (though she of course still questioned God's existence, it didn't stop her from finding solace in the rituals). Having heard voices, Susan slowed to a halt, listening. The first person was Nikabrik, and Susan smiled - the bitter and cynical dwarf had grown on her with his caustic humour. Sometimes they'd just take the piss out of each other for a few hours, as they both worked on polishing armour. Figuring that it'd be good to have an insult match to see who could come up with the most disgusting or stupid remarks, Susan started forward again.
The sound of another voice stopped her once more. It was... unidentifiable. Warped and twisted. Like nails on the chalkboard of the soul almost. Only one thing was heard clearly, Caspian's name, and while Susan had been about to turn and leave Nikabrik, not wanting to interrupt him with whatever character he was with... Frowning, Susan crept forward, wanting to get close enough to understand what was being said. Because she wasn't familiar with the person speaking, she may be wrong in her interpretation of how Caspian's name was uttered. She had to be sure that it really was a harmless conversation, but again - the second voice, and now a third - rumbling like low and evil thunder, worried Susan inordinately.
"He'll come around, but the time's not right," that was Nikabrik.
"You must speed it up, our Mistress must be returned soon, or the Telmarines will overrun us," scary voice number one.
"As I said," growling, "I'm working on it."
Scraping, and voice two, "The White Witch needs him, and he needs Her, why can't you show him this faster dwarf?"
"There's complications, he's caught up in his own thing right now, he has things he needs -"
"It's the wench isn't it?" voice one once more, and Susan felt a thrill of terror.
"She's no wench, she's," Nikabrik paused, and it was obvious he was thinking, "she's good for him."
"The Mistress will not care for her, she reeks of Aslan, and it appears she's even tainted you Nikabrik," the snarly one hissed.
Having heard enough, Susan started to withdraw, and then like always happens when trying to sneak away while scared - she tripped.
"Ooof!"
"Who's there?" Nikabrik came into view just as Susan had got her feet beneath her.
Managing to smile like nothing was wrong, "Hi Shortstack! So, I could use you for something - I've got this great need a footstool."
Nikabrik almost smiled, but then stopped, "Your Highness I don't think that will be happening."
"Oh spoilsport," acting normal, all the while backing down the hallway. "Don't tell me you've already got a date? Must be blind, deaf and dumb to want to spend any time with you." Winking at him, "Either that or you're paying her really well."
"Don't make this harder Your Highness," Nikabrik came close to looking sad.
Two cloaked figures appeared, flanking him, and moved towards her.
Reaching up as though to adjust her hair, Susan fingered a long hairpin, and it made sense now as to why the points were so sharp - everything lovely in Telmarine culture was useful as a weapon too. Cocking her head, while scratching casually, "Oh Nikabrik you freak, what are you going to do with two women? Frankly right now I'm just trying to get my head around you with - "
"Silence whore!" a gnarled hand flung back the hood of a cloak.
Gasping Susan, recoiled, then recovered her aplomb, "Wow Nikabrik - I didn't think a girl could do worse than you. But really, you could do far better than her!" Clearing her throat, "Well why don't I just leave you to your freakish date. Though really I think you serving as a doorstop for me would be more useful."
The second figure pounced, but Susan had already removed one of her pins, and kept it palmed, pressed along the inside of her wrist. Air knocked from her, Susan was unable to yell for help. Seeing stars, and then she was being lifted, carried to be put on the Stone Table.
"You're not going to kill her on that are you?" Nikabrik sounded irritated.
A hand was around her throat, cutting off her air, but not badly - Caspian had been rougher many times than this. It was nothing to stay calm for that at least. But she had to think, had to come up with a way out of this with just the use of a single hairpin.
"She heard us, saw us, she must die," the positively hideous female-ish thing came closer to her.
"Leave her to me then," Nikabrik interrupted, pulling his short dwarven sword from it's shoulder sheath.
"You truly are a nasty one," it looked like a werewolf, the thing over her, long muzzle poking from beneath its hood.
Nikabrik shrugged, "I must clear the taint from me, prove to the Lady that I am loyal to Her."
"True, true," the hag rasped.
The hand lifted from her neck, and the wolf-thing must think her too terrified to do anything. Let them continue thinking that.
"Nikabrik, please, why?" it wasn't too hard to sound scared. Because she was, but there was no way some scruffy-assed animal was going to take her out. That honour was reserved for someone who may learn from it. Not that she thought she meant that much to Caspian, but still.
Shaking his shaggy head, "I'm sorry Your Highness, you should have been more careful where you went. Though this would have happened anyway."
"But I thought you were my friend," whispering.
He was standing over her now, atop the Table, the sword pointing down at her neck, "It will be fast. I promise."
XXX
Caspian nodded his thanks to Jiroon, "She's in there? Thank you, then I shall take care of it."
"Your Highness, I smell something off," Jiroon didn't leave like Caspian requested.
"Off?" eyes narrowing. "What kind of 'off'?"
Jiroon sniffed the air delicately then growled, "Very off," before slinking forward, belly low to the ground.
Without thought Caspian unslung Susan's bow, movements swift and easy though he was out of practice. Part of him distantly thought it odd that he pulled the bow out instead of his sword, but it felt right so he didn't let the questioning voice inside his head bother him. Following close behind Jiroon, they both froze in shock.
Caspian had never known that Narnians could produce such creatures, thinking that the history books had exaggerated. They hadn't. And Nikabrik was there, poised to take Susan's life. He didn't like that, she was his. And only his - her life was in his hands, not someone else's!
"Aren't you his friend at least?" her voice was strained.
"You should learn to be quiet," the hag grabbed Susan's hand, slicing the palm, causing a scream to well up, that was cut silent by the were's hand on her throat. "And Nikabrik, either do it, or we will. It would be more fun our way."
The sight of the blood was the catalyst. From the corner of his eye, Caspian saw Jiroon spring, pouncing and rolling the hag about, snarling, biting and hissing. But it was Nikabrik who held his attention, for the blade was swinging down, and there was an arrow in Caspian's hand and then it was in Nikabrik's shoulder, toppling the dwarf. Caspian's blood curdling roar filled the room, as he lept further in, dropping the bow to meet the were-wolf, sword flying into his hand. Blade twirling, Caspian sliced at his opponent, then danced aside nimbly, though not quite as fast as he should have, receiving a swipe to his chest that made him grunt once. Thankful for a moment that he always wore at least his studded jerkin, Caspian moved into the next blow, stepping into the were's reach, slamming his shoulder into the hairy chest. It was impossibly strong, but Caspian was impossibly pissed, and it showed. No one touched her but him, no one dared lay hands on that delicate neck but him - she was his!
Grabbing the filthy thing by a wrist, Caspian leaned away, using his body-weight to spin it back a few steps, and then he was there once more, twisting his arm as he lunged, skewering the thing that had dared to hurt his flower. Ripping the sword from its gushing chest, Caspian looked around madly for something else to kill. The hag was on her knees, about to shove her long dagger into Jiroon, but Susan was sneaking up behind her, hairpin held tightly in her hand. Susan wrapped her forearm around the hag's neck, tilting her head back, and slammed the point into her eye, but that wouldn't kill something like that at all. Caspian raced over, then there was a howl, and the werewolf, bleeding a river, bounded past him aiming for Susan.
Yanking his belt knife from its sheath, flipping it up, catching it, and then flinging his arm out, putting a spin on the hilt, there was a pained yelp. The werewolf collapsed in midair, Caspian rushed over, poised to kill it.
"No one takes her from me. Ever," snarling before he beheaded the beast.
Behind him there was a screech, and a triumphant roar from Jiroon.
Narnians were racing into the room, many armed, including Rosetta, Caspian distantly noticed, a short spear in her hands. Waving them off, Caspian went over to Nikabrik, who's breathing was laboured. The dwarf's head was in Susan's lap, and she was crying.
"Shorstack, why?" sniffling.
"The Telmarines need to be thrown from the land," blood flecking his lips.
"Even Caspian?"
Shake of a head, "He's a good one. So are you."
Smiling, "I'm not Telmarine, runt."
"Leave now Susan," Caspian's voice was harsh.
"You have to help him," pleading, Susan looked up at him.
"He would have killed you, and you ask this? Foolish woman, leave, now," gesturing sharply.
Susan curled over the black dwarf, shielding him with her body, "No. We have to help him!"
Glancing over his shoulder, Caspian saw Jumbletot, "Take her away, lock her in her room."
"Caspian, please! Nikabrik, he's your friend. He's my friend!"
"Come on lass," Jumbletot took Susan's arm, "Let's see to that hand."
"Please Jumbletot," shaking the light touch off, turning to dab at Nikabrik's mouth, where a trickle of blood was leaking.
Nikabrik shook his head, "You'd forgive me? Why?"
Caspian watched, fascinated through the red haze that fogged his vision, while Susan pressed a kiss to the wrinkly brow, "Because everyone deserves a little kindness. And everyone deserves a second chance."
"Enough," snapping at Susan, "Go to your room. Now."
Susan's back stiffened, and he knew she knew the tone of voice he used boded ill if she didn't obey.
"Go on Your Highness," Nikabrik coughed a bit.
Shivering, Susan hugged his head, it was all so incomprehensible. Forgiveness? Second chances? That was weakness incarnate. The dwarf would be punished by Caspian's own hand for trying to take something from him. Susan belonged to him, and he'd made an oath to let no one take her from him, and any attempt on another's part to do so would be met with swift violence. And because Susan was so soft, so weak, it meant that Caspian had to be doubly careful in protecting her from being stolen by someone else.
"Nikabrik, I forgave you already, okay? As soon as it happened, I forgave you," the whisper was so quiet that Caspian wasn't sure he'd heard it.
"Goodbye Susan," the dwarf's breath was steady, yet laboured.
As she left, Susan passed a glance towards Caspian, and he'd never seen such a look, one that was filled with anguish for another's pain. Well no that wasn't true, he'd seen it before. Directed at him.
"Everyone leave, now," and he waited until the Narnians had withdrawn, just watching Nikabrik. Up until now, he'd almost thought of the dwarf as being a friend. Squatting down next to the dwarf, head tilted to the side, staring at him coldly, "You tried to take something from me."
Nikabrik's blue eyes were filled with pain, yet stayed sharp, "You don't take very good care of what's yours then. She walked right into the danger, and I did the only thing I could. Would have been better me, than them."
Grunting, Caspian reached for the shaft that stuck out of Nikabrik, tugging it lightly, "Did I say you could speak?"
"Arrrgh!" short back arching, small thrashes.
"My word is my bond, and I made an oath," slipping his fingers in the back of his boot, taking out the knife tucked away there. Cutting away the bloody tunic Caspian, examined the wound. Holding the blue eyes with his own dark ones, Caspian made a shallow cut over the rapidly bruising flesh around the shaft, "No one will take her from me. Ever. Nothing at all, because I will destroy it. She belongs to me, with me, and I will tolerate nothing happening to her."
Nikabrik was struggling to stop from screaming, and between gritted teeth, "Even from yourself?"
Pausing, knife held delicately in his hand, ribbons already flayed from the dwarf's chest draped like macabre streamers over the short torso, "I said anyone did I not?"
"Then you should start acting like it," panting, fists clenching.
Narrowing his eyes, "And what does that mean?"
Brief agony ridden laugh cut short by Caspian making a small incision, and tugging the skin as the blade slipped between muscle and skin, "They didn't notice - I did!"
"Notice what?" his voice was low, scraping through the air.
"You've been flirting with it for too long, I could see it. I know, aah!" Caspian jerked the strip, tearing it from Nikabrik by hand instead of using the knife.
Leaning in close, "You saw what?"
"I know you boy," growling, "if what you say is true, then you've been about to break your word for a long time. The White Witch coming would have been a boon for you after you killed Susan."
Caspian reeled back, shock shaking him, "Watch your tongue. You know not of what you speak."
Nikabrik was shuddering, "You were going to kill her, eh? Anyone who looked could see it, but they all think you're more Narnian than that. You aren't," shaking his head, "you're Telmarine boy. The Narnian blood has been lost to your line for too long. Only the White Witch could have saved us, saved you too."
"Silence!" grabbing the arrow and twisting it back and forth in Nikabrik's wound. "You will die for your crimes dwarf, for daring to lay hands upon what is mine, for looking at her and attempting to remove her from my care. And yes, yes I will not let anyone take her from me - she is mine!" hissing in Nikabrik's face.
"Then you had better start acting like it boy, or loose your precious honour," the words were spit in Caspian's face.
Snarling, he lost his temper and Caspian didn't really remember much of the time spent in there, except when he came out of it, Nikabrik was a pile of tendons, bone, skin and muscle. A pile that was strewn about like a bizarre jigsaw. And he was covered in blood, hair sticking up in odd angles from him running his hands through it. Leaning back Caspian cracked his spine, then levered himself up, swaying now that the rush of adrenaline had left him.
Glancing about he realized he was alone in the room, which was as it should be. Then there was a clop of hooves, and Caspian noticed Glenstorm get up from where he'd been kneeling, his face serious and serene as usual. Centurion wisdom gazed out at him from those deep eyes. Holding his second's gaze, Caspian waited, seeing what would be said. He must have seen it all, probably even heard it. But Caspian was ultimately Telmarine, and as such would follow his desires whenever he chose. Except for his honour would stop him at times. It was the only thing that separated him from the animals that the Lords were. With a start Caspian realized that that was what Nikabrik had been talking about.
His blood must be thin, because the only thing that remained to him of his Narnian heritage was his honour. Yet still they followed him. Caspian made a second soundless vow to himself, he would keep in mind his honour and watch for the pitfalls that his training and core culture threatened to drag him in. For his father had always told him, drilled into his mind and heart that his honour was all that kept him from being a lowly churl, a worthless sack like the Council. Because if he was like the Council, like most Telmarines - then he would be unable to do his job, which was basically to rule and protect all he possessed from others.
And no one would take what was his.
Wiping his bloody knife on his pants-leg uselessly, Caspian nodded to Glenstorm, "Is there anything that needs my attention?"
Glenstorm was quiet, measuring him, "Yes, there is."
"Well?"
"The Lady Susan, she will require you over the next few days," it was soft, yet Caspian felt he was being ordered to care for his mistress.
Back stiffening, "And why would she require me? She is little more than a prisoner."
As always he denied her status aloud.
Still and calm, placid and implacable, "Is she? My mistake then. Then no, there is nothing you must see to at all. We will take care of her ourselves if you aren't capable of it. Do not go to her room for awhile, because you will only make matters worse then. There will be a patrol going out tomorrow, I suppose the men could use your presence, for it will be more welcome there than here."
Taken aback at the chilly words, and their implications, "Who leads, you or I?"
"You do, Your Highness. But there are times you are as useless as teats on a man, and I say this as your friend," approaching slowly, "And you are blind much of the time, and that can be forgiven for the most part. Except when it affects your leadership skills. That 'prisoner' has done much for us, and the Narnians love her. You were our hope, but she has renewed our faith, something you could never do. The troops fight because they believe that Aslan has graced us once more, and that He will come again. And you call her a prisoner. If that is how you view her, then that is your business. There is only so much coddling of you that can be done, and I have already said far more than I should have. I take my leave, I have vastly more important matters to see to now."
It felt as though he'd been sucker punched, Caspian hadn't thought Glenstorm's disapproval would actually hurt. No one's had before. On one hand Caspian was enraged that the centaur had the audacity to question his judgement, on the other he had been fighting the awareness of just how important to the Narnians Susan had become. Stumbling over to the Table, Caspian leaned on it, and looked up at Aslan's image. He had never been one for prayer or asking the question 'why', but things had been lurching through him unnoticed for some time now. Caspian had been right, Susan was more than she appeared at first blush, just not how he'd thought.
In only a few months she'd wormed her way into the structure here, bolstering and supporting everyone in innumerable tiny ways. Including him. Him, who she couldn't stand, yet there were so many instances that she'd backed him, bowed to his will. Why was that? Was it just inherent in her nature? Or was it something she had simply decided was the most expedient thing to do, not for his benefit, or even hers - but for the Narnians? And why was it that she loved them so much, why was it she worked so hard for them? No, he didn't believe Aslan still lived, or that He would return, or that He even cared for this land, but it was undeniable that Susan was an utter oddity for this realm. Her softness would be devoured by a Telmarine, crushed and put on display - and he'd even tried to do it himself, and had been unable to. Was that thing he viewed, had been taught was weakness, exactly what she had said - a strength? Is that what being Narnian was - this embracing of weakness?
Shaking these thoughts off, they didn't belong in a Telmarine mind, Caspian took a deep breath, not even sparing a look at the thing that had once been something of a friend, and walked away. As he wondered which was better - being Telmarine or Narnian - and if who he was was good enough for either.
XXX
Caspian approached he and Susan's room, no her room, that's what it was once more - he was just a rare visitor - he saw that there were guards posted. (After he'd cleaned up very good, no need to add further to Susan's probably distress). A large minotaur and Leopard were seated comfortably until they spied him. Both looked from one to the other then stood, blocking the way to the door.
"We're under orders to not let you pass Your Highness," it came out uncertain, but it was apparent that they were determined to do as they had been told.
"Stand down anyway," irritated that they would attempt to barr him.
"We can't Your Highness," the minotaur shook his head.
"On whose orders do you disobey me?" hand dropping to his hilt.
The Leopard's tail swished back and forth showing his distress, "The Princess'."
"Princess? There is no princess here, just a prisoner," growling.
Another look from one to the other, "Be that as it may Your Highness, but that is her status according to tradition."
Glowering at the minotaur trying to remember his name, "Lurrulg, there is no such tradition as that, now stand aside and this disobedience will be overlooked this once."
"Your Highness she is your wife in all but name, and that makes her royalty just as much as you," the Leopard was obviously becoming agitated, for the Talking Beasts mated for life, so he could see his point, but it wasn't valid in this case.
"She is a mere prisoner, now stand aside or I shall have you hung for insubordination!" roaring.
The door was yanked open and Rosetta poked her head out, then caught sight of him and frowned, "What are you doing here?"
"Rosetta, tell Susan that I demand that this foolishness cease," snarling at her.
"I'm sorry Your Highness, but I can't do that," but she didn't seem all that sorry. "Pior go get Glenstorm or Morningdew, they'll solve this. Lurrulg, make sure he doesn't try and enter, he's not welcome here," then the door slammed shut.
Lurrulg feigned sympathy, but stood before the door, arms crossed, "I have my orders Your Highness. It's not my place to question your relationship with Her Highness, but the law is the law, and until you are crowned King, you can't change that."
Twitching muscles, Caspian struggled to stay calm, though he was far from it, and it took a monumental effort to get a reign on his temper, he was in no mood for this shit, "And what law is it that says she is my wife when she is as far from that as could be possible?"
Lurrulg looked surprised, then shrugged, "You should know the Narnian laws, but you were raised Telmarine so I suppose you didn't know. You have lived as man and wife," an obvious euphemism for the fact that he'd been bedding her, "for more than three months. Therefore you're married."
Rubbing his forehead, "Lurrulg she is not my wife, nor will she ever be my wife. At most she is a whore that I frequent."
Suddenly Caspian found himself picked up by his shirtfront, held up to the huge minotaur's face, "You'll not speak that way of her! I was against you as our leader in the first place, and I had been right - you really are little more than a Telmarine whoreson! Disrespecting the law is bad enough, but to call such a Lady as her in that manner - I would call you out for that if it were my place! We minotaurs are loyal to her, and we may have given you our word and our bond, but you will not speak like that of her, or you will loose every one of us. She has been kind to us and looked to our needs, while you have sniveled over your throne."
"Unhand me, now," wrapping his fingers around a thick wrist, looking for that bundle of nerves that would make the beast howl.
Just like that he was dropped like a stone, "Or what? You'll have me hung? Good, I wouldn't want to follow such as you seeing as what an animal you are. It taints my honour. Disgusting."
Creaking from the door and Susan stood framed in the doorway, "Lurrulg leave him be, he's just had a bad day. Caspian, please go away."
She looked tired, worn out, as though it'd been her who had been tortured rather than Nikabrik. And she looked far older than her seventeen years, eyes bloodshot, hair in tattered snarls. Bruises around her neck from the werewolf's paw made a strange necklace. Caspian wanted to smooth them away, the urge shooting through him like a bolt, no one was supposed to mark her but him. Brushing off imagined dirt, Caspian tried to push past the minotaur.
Giving the hand that was pressed to the center of his chest, "If you do not remove your paw from me, I will remove it from your arm."
"Lurrulg, let him past, I'll deal with him myself," Susan stepped away from the door, motioning for Caspian to enter.
There was a rumble from the soldier, and Caspian could feel the dagger sharp glare between his shoulders as he went into Susan's room. Behind him, the door closed, while Susan went to go sit in 'her' chair. Rosetta was carding wool, ignoring him.
Caspian didn't want an audience for this, "Rosetta you may go." The dwarf didn't even spare him a glance, continuing as though nothing were going on. Putting a hint of menace into it, "Rosetta, I order you to leave."
"Rosetta, it's okay, I'll be fine," Susan's voice was soft."
"I don't think so dear, you need some moral support, and he's no good at anything like that."
"Rosetta, trust me it's okay, he and I need to talk I suppose. Or," humourless laugh, "he needs to yell more like. Nothing I haven't seen before."
He'd never felt so thoroughly ignored, it was like he were some bug waiting to be squashed.
Rosetta sighed and got up, leaving her carding behind her, and as she moved by Caspian, "If you hurt her I'm going to twist your ear so bad it'll pop right off."
Alone now, Caspian glanced around. The room was in shambles, like Susan had had a screaming fit and had torn things to shreds. Mostly bedding, but he spied a few pieces of wood. Bending over to pick a piece up, he frowned recognizing it as some of his carvings of her. It was snapped in half, and dinged, like it'd been picked up and thrown against a wall repeatedly.
"They call you 'Your Highness', and unless I am mistaken you are far from royalty admittedly by your own word," wiping the figure off.
"It started awhile ago, I'm surprised you didn't notice sooner," Susan was concentrating on something. "Everytime I correct them, they just smile and say 'Of course Your Highness'. A bit irritating but it makes them happy."
"Do you know why they do it?" leaning against his desk across the room from her.
"No, does it matter? I think they're just being nice, or overly hopeful. I don't know why," shrugging, quill scratching, "It's not like I'll live through this war, and it's not like I'd ever marry you, or you'd ever marry me. But, again - it makes them happy. Let them hope. There's little enough of it."
Merely grunting, Caspian watched as she held her injured hand cupped close to her abdomen, sighing occasionally, and making constant notations. Oddly it felt comforting after the stress of earlier, she had a tendency to have that effect on him.
Curious, "You are always writing something, tell me what is it that holds your attention so when you should be more mindful of my presence?"
"Well who do you think goes over the requirements of the units? I'm just making sure the stuff gets done properly, while you work on troop movements," she sanded the page she was working on currently, waving it slowly to speed the drying. "Glenstorm gave me that responsibility, if you don't like it, take it up with him." Shuffling papers, and then she turned to him, "Now, what was so urgent that you had to come in here like that?"
Caspian had thought he'd cleaned most of the blood off himself, and gave himself a quick check - letting out an irritated growl when he saw that his boots were still coated thickly. He didn't understand why she was so distressed though, maybe the fear of dying had unhinged her? It was possible, but he didn't think it was that. Shying away from the words that kept echoing in his mind about second chances and forgiveness, Caspian just set the broken carving down as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"I came to check on you," the only thing he could come up with.
Susan's brows rose, giving an indelicate snort, "As you can see I'm fine, and was being taken care of before you barged in. Right now you're not someone I want to see." Shaking her head, "Frankly the only reason I'm not trying to figure out how to kill you right now is because I'm too tired. But give me an hour or so and we'll see how well you'd last." Going back to her ever present stack of papers, "Now you've checked on me, so I advise you leave. Because if you want more, be prepared to have to fight very hard for it, for if you lay a single finger on me right now, I will bite it off. Or anything else you try to touch me with for that matter."
"You think you have the option of denying me? I do believe we have had that discussion before," making his way over to her, and bracing his hands on either side of her on the desk.
That got an immediate reaction, and she spun around, the small knife she used to trim her quills in her hand pushed up against the underside of his jaw, "And as I said before, do not sneak up on someone armed. Especially when that person is mad enough to gut you."
It stung as the skin started to break, but Caspian moved into it, daring her, "You are incapable of such things, you are too gentle."
"Oh?" and he could see Susan's teeth clench, "I think not. After all I did shove my hairpin into that thing's eye."
"It was not what killed her," crowding closer, ignoring the trickle of life that started to well from the small wound.
"It doesn't matter Caspian, because frankly it should be you who's a bit more wary, and worried, not me. After all," eyes narrowing, "it is me who you continually wrong. And it's me who takes it, and it's me who puts up with you. There's only so much abuse a person can take. And my patience with you has reached an end. Now, back away or I willhurt you Caspian. Threaten all you will, for tonight I am no gentle girl, I am no possession, and I am not anything that will have even the merest truck with you. You killed Nikabrik, and you made it hurt. I could hear his screams from here Caspian, and you have yet to give me one good reason why I shouldn't hurt you in return. No reason, no right, and no humanity - that's you. A pathetic Telmarine thing. Honourless git. Now go," a flash of sharp pain as Susan dragged the blade down rapidly and light, laying a very shallow cut to his throat.
Grabbing her by the wrist, "You dare much."
"And you've dared more!" snarling, "All I have to do is scream Caspian. That's all - and they'll come. You should know that before you anger me further."
"You think you rule them? I am King here - "
"No, you're no King you worthless pig! You're just a spoilt brat, a Prince who's wasting everyone's time, that's all. Don't push me Caspian, not right now," her voice was like an icefloe, unstoppable, frigid, and dangerous. "I will not tolerate it."
Softly, "I killed him for you."
Susan's features morphed and it took a moment for him to know what it was: disgust. "You're filth," then she spit on him.
Flinching, Caspian's eyes closed, and his free hand came up wiping it away, "He was going to take you away from me, and this is how you repay me?" knowing he probably looked murderous. But he had to shove that aside, for his honour's sake. "I take care of you, I do everything for you, I save you - and this, this," gesturing with spittle covered fingers at his face and neck, "is what you do?"
"You don't do a damn thing for me Caspian, you never have, and you never will," every line of her lovely face a study of frozen rage, "you only do them for yourself. Stop lying, stop fooling yourself - and stop thinking I ever bought it. Now let go of my hand or Lurrulg will be in her so fast you won't know what hit you."
"Not if I do not let you scream," hand snapping out to grip her throat, squeezing. "Drop the knife." She gripped it tighter, jerking in his hand. In response Caspian tightened his hold, "Drop it." Susan didn't respond, just glared at him, breathing shallowly, so he increased the pressure, "I could maintain this until you pass out Susan. Drop it." The small tool clattered as she released it, "Good. Now, come along," tugging at her neck firmly. He would have to be careful to not let her shout, so he switched his hold, and twisted her good arm behind her, his forearm around her neck, "Take a stroll with me Susan, and slide the bolt home on the door." Closing his eyes, Caspian pressed his face into the back of her hair, struggling for calm, "You will not deny me, you cannot. I will not let you. Susan," sighing into her ear as he guided their steps to his desk, "you belong to me. Accept it. When I want you, you come. And when I want you to go, you go. Simple." Kissing the side of her neck, "Do you understand? You should by now, it has been quite some time since you should have learned it."
Susan strangled out a tiny sound, injured hand going to his wrist, tugging weakly, sighing he loosened his grip a touch, "I. Do. But. Hate. You. Right. Now," wheezing it out.
"That does not matter," Caspian bottled up his anger at her, "you still do as I say."
"Let. Go. Of. Me... Please."
He could tell that the request cost her, but Caspian shook his head, "No. You will yell, and I will not be refused." Maneuvering her around carefully, Caspian lifted her up to the table, sitting on the edge, face to face, "Let us do this the easy way." Stroking her cheek, Caspian was surprised at the softness he felt, he just needed to feel her, to reassure himself that Nikabrik had been stopped in time. But the anger at Susan was there too, she dared try and keep herself from him? After everything? His lips moved over hers lightly, hand slipping from her cheek, down her shoulder, to a breast that he freed from the top of her corset, rolling his thumb over the nipple.
[REDACTED TO BE IN COMPLIANCE WITH FFN POLICY. The full chapter is on AO3, under the same story name.]
"You are mine," nuzzling. "Will not let anyone take you away." Desperation had driven him to be so harsh, all he'd wanted was to bury himself in her, for her to hold him as she had that night, to kiss him, to ease his... fears. But he couldn't tell her that, and had no way of requesting it other than what he'd tried.
She'd said no, but he'd needed her, so he took Susan.
Now, holding her tight, clutching her to his chest, "Do not say no ever again," and he hated how weak he sounded, the pleading in his voice was disgusting.
Susan leaned a bit away from him looking at him intently, "Why?"
"Because," hiding his face, fearing that something he didn't understand was going on.
Her good hand tangled in his hair, trying to tilt his head so she could see, "Hey what's this? Since when are you me?"
Caspian didn't see the humour in it, "Do not say no to me."
"I can't promise that Caspian, right now I should be at your jugular and you know it," sighing.
Why was she so soft? He could see the thwarted rage, was quite aware of the fact that the only thing holding her in check from screaming for help was the fact that she was too tired. Obviously he wasn't aware of how pathetic he'd sounded begging for her to reassure him of the fact that she was his as he went at her. Or how vulnerable he looked right then - though he suspected the last. Eyes itching, Caspian moved to kiss her, but Susan turned her face aside.
Hand tugging at his scalp, "Stop."
Freezing for some unknown reason, Caspian looked to her, he'd almost broken his word, almost lost his honour, almost lost himself, almost lost her - how could she say no?
"Please," begging now, not understanding anything, he was becoming frightened, unsure of himself, unsure of who he was, and he needed Susan to show him, remind him, of who he was.
"Caspian I'm mad at you, and if I were to try what you're doing, what you've done - how would you act?" worn out, exhausted.
Blinking, Caspian tried to muddle through that. A woman taking a man? They didn't do that, and he expressed the sentiment.
Susan made a soft grunt of agitation, "Ignore that fact, and think about it for sake of argument. How would you handle it if the roles were reversed?"
And then he got some idea.
Swallowing, struggling with the foreign thoughts, "What must I do to make it up to you then? Gifts?"
Pursing her lips, "I don't care about gifts Caspian. I don't want them, not when you only give them to me because you think that it buys you leeway."
"Then what?" without a clue for what to do now.
Susan sighed, and her lips were on his, kissing him. For the moment as confused as he was, Caspian was calm.