'You look pensive.'

Susan flinched in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Whirling around, the fact that she was perched precariously on a misshapen slab of stone fled her mind and she found herself stumbling, limbs flailing as she desperately grasped thin air. With a breathless squeak, she landed gracelessly on her behind among the old rushes. Groaning, Susan sat up gingerly and fixed a glare at Caspian, who was bent over laughing and clutching his middle.

'I'm glad you're amused,' she muttered stiffly as she stood up, pointedly ignoring his hand as he offered to help her up. Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment and she turned away from him, busying herself with brushing off the stubborn rushes that clung to her dress.

'I'm sorry,' he chuckled behind her. 'It's incredibly rare to catch the usually composed Queen Susan so off-guard,' he explained, throwing a charming grin her way. 'Allow me my amusements. God knows I don't have much of those anymore,' he murmured self-deprecatingly.

Susan watched him nervously as he braced his forearms against the sill, feeling inexplicably tongue-tied now that she finally knew what she had to say to him. 'How did you know about this place?' she demanded instead.

He cocked his head curiously at her. 'I live here,' he reminded her teasingly.

'Oh, please,' she replied, rolling her eyes. 'I meant, how did you know about this tower? It's a bit of a ways off from the castle, it doesn't look at all disturbed and I've been coming here the past few days without ever running into you.'

'Well, I've actually been coming here the past couple of years,' he replied smugly. 'This is where I hide from the Lords, from Trumpkin, from their demands…' His words trailed away absently and he quickly shook his head, as if he was trying to rid himself of heavy thoughts. 'As for not running into you here the past few days,' he continued casually, 'I have been rather tied down with Kingly matters. Trumpkin hasn't let me out of his sight longer than two turns of his hourglass.'

'And I suppose you're back to reclaim your sanctuary from me?' Susan asked, crossing her arms on her chest and raising her brows at him in a silent challenge.

He mirrored her stance, a wide grin already spreading across his face. 'If I am?'

'Well, you should know that I never surrender without a fight,' she retorted. 'I've grown rather attached to this tower.'

'And what are you going to fight me with?' he challenged her. Peering comically behind her, he continued, 'I see neither your bow and arrow nor your sword.'

'Do you really think I survived all those years in Narnia as a Queen solely on my weapons?' she countered. 'Arrows run out and swords grow dull, King Caspian. You, of all people, should know this.'

'Ah, so you'll fight me with your bare hands?' He narrowed his eyes in speculation and smirked, further baiting her. 'Interesting.'

He was correct to assume that that silly smirk would get a rise out of her, but he hadn't factored her reaction into his plan. So, to say that he was surprised when he found himself face-down in the dusty rushes with her knee pressed into the small of his back and his wrists firmly locked in her grip would be an understatement.

'Susan-' he wheezed, his words muffled by the stone floor. 'Su-'

'Do you yield?' she teased him, pushing her forearm into the back of his neck.

'Yes,' he rasped. 'Let me stand...'

'Do you yield this tower to me?' she questioned him further, now digging her elbow into the nape of his neck.

'Yield!' Caspian panted. 'I yield everything!'

'Hmm…' Susan purposely lingered over her decision, letting him stew in his pain. 'I accept,' she finally replied grandly. Grinning, she stood up, brushing her hair behind her shoulder smugly as she watched him struggle to sit up.

'I feel-' he began when he finally managed to stand. 'I feel I should let you know that I let you win,' he managed to speak through his ragged breaths. With a concentrated effort, he even managed to summon an indulgent smile. 'I don't fight-'

'Would you like some time to catch your breath?' Susan remarked dryly.

'-women,' he coughed.

'Yes, I'm sure you're telling the truth.' Susan sat down on the stone slab and watched as he gingerly stretched to feel out the sore spots on his body. 'Still, yield is yield and you yielded this tower to me. It's mine now for as long as I want.'

He stilled, his expression suddenly darkening. 'For as long as you want?'

'Well, yes-'

'And what happens when you leave again?' His gaze lowered to meet hers and Susan felt a shiver trail down her spine at the sheer darkness and despair in those expressive brown eyes.

'Then you'll have ownership over it once more,' she replied lightly even though she knew that he wasn't talking about the tower.

He chuckled, but the fun from their previous banter was already long gone. 'I'll…leave you to it then,' he spoke into the tense silence. He turned around, shoulders drooping slightly, and headed for the precarious wooden steps that led to the platform below.

'Wait!' Susan blurted out. 'Are you leaving?'

He turned his head slightly in her direction, but avoided meeting her eyes. 'I thought you wanted it to yourself.'

Susan winced at the connotation behind his words. 'Not now,' she corrected him hastily. 'Please, don't go. Not yet,' she pleaded with him.

This time, he turned around to fully face her. His brows were furrowed in confusion at her plea. 'Why not?'

'I…I'd like to talk to you.'

'Ed!'

Edmund turned around and eyed Peter suspiciously as he stormed across the training courtyard, sending soldiers skittering to clear his path. 'Yes?' he asked blithely.

'That soldier I sent to you…' Peter paused and rested his hands on his hips. 'The one with the...hair. And the...' Peter waved his hands vaguely.

'The one who could barely keep a grip on his sword?' Edmund supplied helpfully.

'Yes-'

'The one who was tripping over his own feet?'

'Yes, that's the one,' Peter snapped impatiently. 'Where is he?'

'I sent him off to the infirmary,' Edmund informed him.

'Infirmary? Why?'

'Because, Peter, he tripped over his own feet while holding on to his sword,' Edmund replied dryly. At the incensed look on Peter's face, Edmund hurried to add, 'Don't worry. It was just a small scrape. I'm sure Lu can patch him up-'

'Lu? You sent Tomas to Lucy?' Peter loomed over him, eyes wide and hands clenched into fists. 'Lucy? Our youngest sister Lucy? Lucy Pevensie?'

'Unless you've met other Lucys around here, she would be the one I am referring to.' Edmund slid his sword into the scabbard that hung loosely from his hips. 'Peter, what's going on? Who's Tomas?'

Ignoring him, Peter kicked a loose pebble and ran a hand through his hair. 'Should've kept my eyes on him the whole time,' he grumbled to himself under his breath. 'But you promised her you wouldn't interfere! She wanted to make friends-'

'For Aslan's sake, Peter! Will you tell me what's going on?' Edmund demanded just as Caspian strode up to meet them.

'Peter, Edmund,' he muttered tersely. 'A word?'

'Hang on, Caspian,' Edmund dismissed him, grabbing Peter by his shoulders and shaking him forcefully. 'You're just in time to see me knock the lights out of Peter, unless he comes to his senses in the next second.'

'I need to have a word with both of you right now,' Caspian repeated urgently. 'In private.'

Peter blinked, roused from his inner monologue by the determined look on Edmund's face and the fist that seemed to slowly become larger in his field of vision. Yelping, he ducked just as Edmund swung, and swiftly whirled around, capturing Edmund by the collar of his plain tunic. 'What on Earth are you doing?' he shouted. 'Were you about to hit me?'

'Edmund, Peter, please-' Caspian entreated to deaf ears.

'I had to pull you back to Earth,' Edmund replied defensively. 'You were babbling like a lunatic about Lu and about that soldier. Why were you babbling about them?'

'Gentlemen, we are creating quite a scene here,' Caspian interrupted, discreetly pushing the boys away from one another when it became clear that blood would shortly be spilled, especially when they had an abundance of swords and spears close by.

'You shouldn't have sent him off to Lu!' Peter suddenly yelled over Caspian's shoulder as the King held him away from the younger Pevensie. 'We'd have another Susan in our hands!'

The training ground quietened and Caspian abruptly pulled away as the gist of their argument registered. Soldier, Lucy, Tomas, another Susan, him. Lucy, another Susan. Tomas, him. 'I see,' he finally spoke out loud when the silence became far too uncomfortable.

'Caspian, I don't mean it in that way.' Peter hurriedly attempted to remedy the awkward situation. 'I simply meant-'

'No, it's alright,' Caspian replied coolly. Frankly, he was just embarrassed that this entire scandal was playing out in front of his men, all of whom seemed to be enjoying it as though they were watching a captivating tableau. The Legend of the Three Kings, Two Queens of Old and a Soldier. 'Perhaps we should talk about this later, when you have calmed down,' he continued.

Peter clutched his arm, looking guilty as sin. 'No, no. We'll talk now. You have our undivided attention.' He looked to Edmund for support but his brother simply returned his pointed look blankly. It was at this point that an unfortunate herald, unaware of what had passed and oblivious of the strange stillness in the usually chaotic training ground, rushed up towards the three kings.

'Your Majesty,' he declared officiously.

'Yes?' both Peter and Caspian snapped.

The herald's face flushed red with embarrassment and he stammered, 'Your Majesty…King Caspian, sir. A message for you from Lord Drinian.' He stared at the scroll in his hands, momentarily stunned into forgetting why it was in his hands, before hurriedly presenting it to Caspian with excessive flourish.

'Right. Thank you…' Caspian cleared his throat nervously as he tried to recall the name of the red-faced youth who looked like he wished he was anywhere but here. 'Thank you, Erimon. Send Drinian my best. Do see if your Lord would like have supper at the Castle one of these days, if he can pull himself away from the Dawn Treader.'

'I will, Your Majesty.' The boy bowed jerkily and hastened off the training ground.

'Suppose we have that talk now, men,' Edmund cheerily broke the tense silence that followed. 'In private, perhaps?'

So sorry about the delay. I've been wearing my keyboard thin trying to write The Talk between Susan and Caspian and I can't seem to get it right. So I caved in and wrote this filler chapter because I was going nowhere with The Talk. Hope you guys don't mind this little non-update and hopefully, I'll be able to give Susan and Caspian The Talk they both deserve.