She barely remembered meeting back up with Caspian and the Kings and Queens of Old. Much later on, when she thought back hard on what she saw, pieces of memory flittered forward like butterflies.
She remembered the devastation of Beruna, the shattered bridge, the remains of the army. She remembered Lorrin sitting on a rock, his face ashen and his hands clutching a key chain similar to the one now around her neck.
She remembered Susan and Lucy trying to say something to her; trying to offer some words of comfort. She would never remember what those words were, even in the future when a grief ten times worse would grip her heart and cause her to lie in bed almost lifeless.
In some sort of dream, she made her way back to the castle. She climbed the familiar staircases and walked through the halls of her home until she arrived in her family's private sitting room. She paused in the middle of the room. Her fingers trailed slowly over the back of his armchair. How many times had they sat here as a family? Even only a few nights ago they had gathered, laughing and dancing at the prospect of his coronation.
The door opened on the far side of the room and her mother slipped in.
They stared at each other for a moment before Isadora held her hands out like a small child.
"Mama," she sobbed.
Prunaprismia crossed the room and gathered her into her arms.
"Shhh," she said comfortingly, stroking her daughter's hair. Isadora clung to her, now earnestly weeping once more.
"So, it's true then?" she heard Ghaliya say as her sister entered.
"Yes, petal, I'm afraid so," Prunaprismia said to her.
Ghaliya's face crumpled and she ran for them. Prunaprismia sighed and held both of her girls as they cried into her shoulders. She rocked them tenderly and hummed a gentle tune, her cheek pressed to the top of Ghaliya's head.
The door opened once more and Marisela trailed in, dragging her toy duck behind her.
"Where's Father?" she asked, staring at her teary mother and sisters.
"Your father is gone, Little Duck," Prunaprismia said. "The Eagle came to take him away."
Marisela paused. She dragged her duck around so it was at her feet and stared down at it.
"I don't believe you," she said. "I want Father."
Prunaprismia walked over to her and knelt down so she was level with her youngest daughter's face. She pushed Marisela's loose hair back and cupped her cheeks; a gesture many had used on the little girl.
"Your father isn't here anymore," their mother said softly, "but he wants you to know that he loves you."
She turned to look at her oldest two, tears now streaming openly down her cheeks. "He loves you all very much," she said, her voice breaking.
Speech gave over to fresh tears and all Miraz's women could do was gather together and weep.
He may not have been a beloved man to all, but he had been a beloved man by some. He had had a family.
A family that now grieved for him bitterly.
"Have you named him yet?"
Isadora opened her eyes. Night had fallen outside and the only light in the room came from the fire. Marisela was sprawled across her and Ghaliya was tucked into her side tight. All three had fallen asleep on one of the couches by the fireplace. Across the room, she could see her mother and Caspian, and in Caspian's arms was her little brother.
"No," Lady Prunaprismia was saying to him. "Miraz has been… I mean was too busy for us to properly discuss it. I like Caspian but Miraz never has… I think because of your father."
"To think all this happened because of him…" Caspian mused, staring down at his little cousin.
"I think this was always going to happen," Prunaprismia said sadly. "Your father was a good King but not a good brother. I often fought with Miraz because he could only see Caspian in you and not your mother. I loved him and he loved me but I knew there was a darkness in his heart that would never shift."
Caspian was silent.
"May I have one request?" Prunaprismia asked.
"Of course," he said.
"I know my husband will go down in history as a villain," she said slowly, "and I do not want to refute that. But please, I beg you, please let it be remembered that he was always good to my girls."
"I'll see," he said, his voice tight.
They stayed quiet for a moment. The baby fussed slightly so Caspian passed him back to his mother.
"Aunt Prue," he said as she settled the baby. "I want you to know that I hold no grudge against you or your children. You and the girls and even this little one will always be free from the stigma of your husband's actions, I promise. Narnia will always be your home."
Prunaprismia reached out and stroked his shoulder comfortingly. "Thank you, your Majesty," she said.
"Please don't call me that," he said and she laughed quietly.
"You better get used to it, Caspian," she said.
"I don't know if I ever will."
"Of course you will. You have the blessing of Aslan, and I am certain that you have the blessing of the Eagle too. And you have a good foundation of people to help you at the start, just like your father did with Lord Bern and the others. Dor will never leave you – even if you try to kick her out the castle."
"Auntie, I'm so scared."
She leaned forward and pulled him into her embrace. "I know you are," she whispered, "but I believe in you. I think your mother would be very proud of you, Cas, if she was still with us today."
"Dor?" someone said. Her hair was stroked back from her ear and her bed sagged slightly as someone sat down.
"Dor, honey? Wake up."
She opened her eyes and stretched.
"You slept all day. You missed Caspian's coronation," her mother was saying.
She sat up and made some sort of non-committal noise.
"You should have gone," Prunaprismia said gently.
"He will understand why I didn't. He had the Kings and Queens of Old there. People won't notice that I was missing."
Prunaprismia sighed and pulled her daughter out of bed. She directed her across the room and sat her down in front of her vanity.
"There is going to be a ball to celebrate his ascension to the throne. It starts in a little while," Prunaprismia said as she began to brush Isadora's hair. "You, Ghaliya, and I are going to go down as a show of good faith. Marisela and the baby are staying with the nurse."
"I'm not wearing the dress," Isadora muttered. Her eyes flicked to the hated black and gold dress, still propped up in the corner of the room.
Her mother chuckled. "No. We won't wear anything too fancy. Wear the red dress with the black beading; that will do."
"Do I have to stay long?" she asked.
"Maybe an hour? Maybe a little more if we feel like it? We are just showing face, that is all," her mother replied.
By the time they were all ready to head down, they could hear the faint beginnings of music echoing up from the courtyard. Rather than hold his coronation ball in the Main Hall, Caspian had decided to hold it in the courtyard where there was more space for guests and just a generally more pleasant atmosphere – especially for the Old Narnians. They were still wary of the imposing Telmarine castle.
Isadora snidely wondered if they would feel quite so at ease if she reminded them that only a few nights ago their brethren's blood had washed the flagstones beneath their now-dancing feet.
However, such thoughts are always best kept to oneself and she had no intention of spoiling Caspian's special day.
Ghaliya squeezed her sister's hand and disappeared amongst the crowd of people. Similarly, Lord Scythley appeared and, with a small smile to Isadora, led Prunaprismia off towards a small group of the still-living Telmarine Lords.
Isadora was left alone in the crowd for only a moment but it seemed like an eternity. She looked around her, at faces she knew and faces she didn't, and she did not see a single friend. All of a sudden she was no longer the adored one. Her father's legacy was already descending on to her shoulders with a terrible weight and all she wanted was to turn tail and run.
Then Caspian was by her side again and all was right in the world. She smiled up at him as he wrapped his arm around her waist. They could have been at any party; that picture of the two of them had been replicated a thousand times over in their pasts and would be replicated in their futures a thousand times more.
"I missed you today," he said to her as he guided her through his new subjects.
"I'm sorry. I should have been there," she said. "I just needed some time to myself."
"Of course," he said, nodding his head.
They had reached a table set up with refreshments. As Caspian poured them both a goblet of wine, she glanced around them. The crowds momentarily parted and she smiled as she saw Edmund and Lucy talking with Ghaliya. Her younger sister had two pink spots on her cheeks and bright eyes and she was chatting animatedly with the King and Queen.
"So, how did you manage to swindle your way on to the throne two years early?" she asked playfully as Caspian handed her a goblet.
He grinned. "Remember at Nain's coronation how you said that Aslan could appear and tell me I was ready to be King? Well, that did end up happening!"
They giggled together like they were children once more.
"Are you all right?" he asked softly when their laughter had died. She shrugged.
"No, but I'll keep going. As always," she said. She remembered the Lion's words and she smiled to herself.
Caspian looked out at his guests and his gaze fell upon Susan. Isadora smirked as he watched the Queen talked with Trumpkin. Just because she felt miserable did not mean she had to stand in the way of another's happiness and she felt like she had already occupied far too much of Caspian's time.
"You should go dance with her," she said, giving him a gentle nudge in the back.
"Should I?" he asked, staring at the girl across the courtyard. She rolled her eyes and gave him a more hefty push. With another laugh, he put down his goblet and headed off towards the Gentle Queen.
She watched him with an expert eye as he bowed in front of Susan. Clearly he knew a little more about romance than she thought he did.
Over against one wall, she saw Lorrin standing alone. Nobody else at the party looked even slightly welcoming so she made her way across to him.
"Hello," she said. He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and swirled the contents of his goblet.
"I'm sorry to hear about your father," she said, leaning against the wall next to him. Someone, maybe Edmund or possibly Caspian, had tried to tell her in the midst of her daze that she would be unable to personally enact revenge upon Lord Sopespian. Something about him being swallowed by a River God at Beruna. Those whole few hours were hazy to her, she had to admit.
He made a face.
"I've been spending my time here trying to compose a letter to my mother and my sisters to let them know," he said bitterly. "Marita was taking care of the house at Beruna, so she already knows, but Mother is on her annual visit to Redhaven, Rebeca and Adelia are holidaying in Terebinthia with their husbands and Viviana is visiting her in-laws in Archenland. Why do they all have to be so far away?"
"I'm sure they've already heard," she said. "News like this is sure to travel quickly."
"They should hear it from me though," he said. "They also need to know that Caspian has cast a dispensation for the wives and children of the Lords who supported your father. He's determined to bring the Narnians and the Telmarines together, it would seem."
Someone detached themselves from the crowd and approached the two of them with a purpose. Isadora studied him as he drew near. He was a Telmarine; dark haired, dark eyed, and handsome of face. He bowed in front of them and shot Isadora a smile so dashing it made even her grief-soaked heart flutter.
"Lady Isadora, I am sorry for your loss," he said.
She didn't say anything so he turned to Lorrin.
"Sir, might I have a word in private," he said. "I was conducting some business with your father and I wish to bring it to your attention."
"Can't it wait?" Lorrin asked, his voice weary.
The stranger smiled in a manner that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. His dark eyes glittered with some unknown mystery.
"Not exactly…" he said slowly.
Lorrin rolled his eyes but set down his goblet and set off with the stranger in search of privacy.
Isadora stayed where she was. A great gasp of delight went up from the crowd as fireworks exploded in the sky overhead and they all turned to stare up at them, oohing and aahing at spectacle. She made no such noise. All she could think of was the last time she had seen fireworks.
On the night her brother had been born.
On the night Caspian had run.
On the night everything had been turned upside down.
Someone coughed beside her, breaking her from her reverie. She tore her gaze away the sky and was surprised to see Peter.
"I wish to apologise," he began, slightly awkwardly, "for my conduct over the past few days. I did not treat you very well."
"It's fine. You were at war and I was the enemy. I have my life and I have my health so you treated me perfectly well," she replied diplomatically. "You let me fight beside you when I changed sides when you could have just as easily turned me away again."
"Look, would you please let me apologise?" he said, smiling. "Caspian said you were stubborn but I never imagined you could hold face so well."
She laughed. "I, your Majesty, am a lady of the court, granddaughter of Caspian VIII and…"
"And descendant of the Bloodline of the Bow," he finished with a grin. "I remember your little speech outside the How."
"It was quite the performance by both of us," she said.
They watched the dance for a moment.
"You know," he said. "Under different circumstances, I think you and I could grow to be friends."
She smiled and looked down at her feet. "I think so too," she said. She shot him a wicked little look. "I can never resist a man with golden hair."
There was a bizarre little moment of silence and then she broke down into near hysterical laughter.
"I'm sorry," she said, covering her face with her hands. "Why did I say that?"
"It has been an eventful few days," he reassured her gently. "I imagine everyone is feeling a tad scrambled."
"And none more so than me," she agreed. He laughed heartily.
"Come, we should join the party again," he said and led her over towards the little cluster of their siblings.
As the fireworks came to an end and the dancing struck up once more, Lorrin exited a side-door of the castle and stepped into the courtyard again. His face was pale and his hands shook as he straightened his clothes. The stranger followed him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry to drag you into this," he said with a smile, "but hey, business is business! We'll be watching!"
With that, he vanished into the party, leaving Lorrin with a problem far more vexing than how to break the news of his father's death to his family.
There you have it, the penultimate chapter of Ashes.
It is, I must admit, incredibly tempting to write one of those AUs where the Pevensies remain in Narnia and co-rule with Caspian. Alas, however, I already have a plot all worked out that follows the canon route - with my own twists added in, of course. :D
Thanks to PrettyRecklessLaura, Wildhorses1492, and Ceara Einin for your reviews last chapter. As always, leave me another to let me know what you thought and I will see you next time, for the final chapter of Ashes and the beginning of Flames.