Author's Note: Wow, this story is coming along quite well! I'm a little pleased with myself for not losing my focus! Confession time: I have never actually completed anything of my writing before. GASP. I know, seriously, laaaaame, but I always end up getting writer's block. However, I am entirely determined to finish this and my Harry Potter fanfic, The Reign of Kellyn Wood. So, all is good. Oh, and I borrowed some lyrics from this lovely, lovely song called "Help! I'm Alive" by Metric. I personally like the CD version of this song better, but the acustic version fits this chapter much better. Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own the rights to this wonderful song, but that doesn't mean you all can't listen to it while reading this chapter. And thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It means so much to mean!


CHAPTER 29: Punch Drunk

The castle slowly came back to life as everyone resumed their business. Astra's bruises faded, but the memories were a little more persistent. For a few weeks she would wake up in a panic, screaming. May would be the only one to hear her in the nearly sound-proof room and would stroke her hair until Astra fell back to sleep. During nights like that, when Astra was too scared to fall back asleep but too prideful to admit it, she and May would talk about anything and everything. Astra felt guilty for monopolizing the girl's precious sleeping time, but May admitted that she would have stayed up with Astra whether she was paid to or not. They were friends; it felt nice to say the word.

She had gone back to her usual joking, casual ways with Caspian. He rejoiced in seeing her eyes light up the way they had, but there was a new-found carefulness and tenderness when he was around her. Throughout the day, as she ate, or read, or was gardening, she caught him looking at her. It was an odd look: a mix of bewilderment that she was there, admiration that she plowed on with her life, amusement in the way she carried herself, and a sort of devotion that he would protect her forever and always. She took it as brotherly affection—it reminded her terribly of the way her brothers would look at her after she had managed to avoid a potentially devastating scrap.

It was Wednesday and Caspian joined her in "the man cave." Astra surveyed the supply of alcohol, finding it to be plenty sufficient.

"Caspian, remember our first Wednesday of whining with wine?"

"Vaguely."

"Remember how I asked you if you had ever gotten so piss drunk that the next day, you had no memory of the previous night and puked until you felt like your guts were going to come out and had a roaring headache?"

"I wish I had forgotten…"

"Well, tonight is the night Caspian! You have a free morning tomorrow!"

"I was going to sleep, catch up on work."

"Now, you and I both know that is a bunch of B.S. You won't sleep and I will see to it that you get nothing done. So, you might as well spend the day hung-over."

"Sounds charming."

"It's okay, we'll be hung-over together. That will make it all worth it." Astra presented him with a glass of wine and a cheeky grin.


Caspian groaned. She was doing that thing: all she did was walk toward him with that quirky, lopsided grin and she could probably make jumping off a cliff sound like exhilarating, harmless fun. Perhaps it was the way she tossed herself into the wind. Everything she did was so careless, it seemed. She was young, only eighteen years old while he was nearly twenty, and their maturity was separated by the responsibilities they carried: he carried too much while she seemed to only be responsible for herself. However, recent events revealed that she was not even quite responsible enough of that.

His mind was hazy from the alcohol. She was deceptively good at keeping his glass full as they carried on casual conversations. Finally, he insisted that she put the bottle of wine down and let him finish his glass. She did so with wry reluctance and polished off her last sip off wine.

"For shame," she said, eyeing the empty glass. "I am pretty sure this wine was delicious, but now I am drunk enough that my taste buds are failing me. That is the sign that we are to move onto the more disgusting liquor."

"Or a sign to stop," Caspian advised.

"Caspian, when was the last time you did something so childish and stupid and selfish?" This did not seem to be a rhetorical question and she actually waited for an answer.

"I do not recall. I must have been very young."

"Don't you ever want to break free?" she whispered, her voice lively. "Don't you ever see a tree and judge its beauty in terms of how easy it would be to climb it?"

"No, frankly, I do not."

"Don't you ever want to break a rule for the sake of breaking it? Don't you ever want to rebel just because you can, because it is expected of you?"

"I am a King, I am not supposed to break rules, I am not supposed to rebel, nor is it expected of me. Besides, who would I rebel against?"

"The man, the system!" she declared with a foreign twang in her voice.

"I think I am the man," Caspian said carefully. Astra frowned.

"Well, that makes things tricky. But, God, Caspian, have you ever been a teenager? Teenagers—well, we think we know everything and we are practically professional screw-ups. It is our royally sanctioned duty," she insisted.

"Sorry, I have never had the pleasure," he said, looking away, trying not to show his true feelings about this loss which he always seemed to regret. However, this did not escape Astra.

"Hmm, touchy subject. Well, we need to move onto something more cheerful, then, because alcohol and sadness never bodes well," she said with a waggle of her finger. She then took that finger, tracing the bottles in the liquor cabinet before tapping one bottle and pulling it out. "This looks rather potent." Caspian inwardly groaned, knowing that in her fabulous luck, she actually managed to pick the most intoxicating bottle. "Shots!"

"No." Then, she did that thing: all she had to do was walk toward him. With the alcohol he drank, he vaguely noticed the way her hips swayed back and forth and how the light danced across her smooth collarbone and the curve of her neck. Perhaps, he thought, one shot would not hurt.


Astra was a little proud of herself to find Caspian in a laughing mess on the couch. The first shot took a little bit of effort, but he was far easier to persuade to have a second, and he actually requested the third.

"Now, we are getting somewhere," she said under her breath. After the third, they both lost count and made up the number of the drink they were on.

"This is my third drink! My second third drink, I think…"

"Fifty. Yes, I'm on drink number fifty," Caspian joked. "Maybe forty-nine and a half, but closer to fifty."

"Caspian, you know what your name rhymes with?"

"Nope."

"Me neither." Caspian quite nearly giggled.

"Caspian, there is something on your face."

"Where?"

"In the middle." He tried to wipe it off. "Did I get it?"

"Nope."

"Now?"

"Nope."

"Now?"

"Ha ha, silly, it's your nose!" Astra cried, poking his nose with her finger. Caspian grabbed her finger and held on. "Nooooooo, give me my finger back!" Astra pulled back and Caspian was caught off-guard by her strength and found himself a little less coordinated than he would be if he hadn't been drinking. Thus, when she pulled her hand back he toppled forward onto her.

Time is a funny thing when one is drunk, Caspian noted to himself. Every movement seemed lazy and sluggish, but events passed by quickly, almost in a blur. Logic was beyond him—he no longer thought about things and instead merely acted. He did not debate the pros and cons of his every move and it seemed as though everything happened so much quicker. Also, things did not make sense. Suffice to say, his mental capabilities did not increase when he found his body over Astra's.

She was warm and smelled like coconut—probably the flavored liquor they were drinking. Her dark hair was messed up and cascaded over the couch they were sitting on, except for one solitary lock which lay on her chest. Underneath him, he could feel the curves of her body; she was little, but strong, this tiny bundle of energy barreling through life full-throttle. Her deep blue eyes danced as she laughed with mirth.

"Oh God!" she snickered, "My heart is hammering! Listen to it," she cried, pulling her hand around his neck down to her chest. Caspian's breath was quite nearly taken away as he drank in her aroma, mesmerized by the pale, freckled skin. If someone caught them at that moment… no, he did not want to think about it. Nay, let them get caught! It was all so exciting. He knew of lords who would do such things: have ladies slip into their chambers quietly at night, enjoy their carnal pleasures under the starlight, only to have the lady slip out quietly the next morning unnoticed. It was acceptable if done clandestinely, and so long as no wife or lovechildren were involved. One move and mere inches, he realized, separated these fantasies from becoming reality… "What does it say? My heart?" Caspian listened.

"It says, 'Lub-dup, lub-dup, lub-dup.'" Astra laughed, pushing him off.

"You don't speak heart?"

"Not very well, I am afraid."

"Well, I am fluent, let me listen to your heart, let me interpret for you." She put her head against his chest and he froze when he felt her fingertips draw figure eights on his ribs.

"What does it say?"

"It says that you should learn to speak heart. Speak from the heart? Speak heart."

"No, seriously!" Caspian guffawed. Astra listened for a moment and interpreted for his heart.

"I tremble; they're gonna eat me alive if I stumble. Can you feel my heart beating like a hammer? Help, I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer. Hard to be soft, tough to be tender. Come take my pulse, the pace is on a runaway train. Help, I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer." She half-spoke and half-sang these words breathily. Caspian was drunk on her words more than anything. "It's from a song I know," she said, pulling away. Caspian felt himself go a little cold without her pressed up against him. "Hmm, it's your heart's song. Your heart-song."

Astra pulled herself away from him, feeling like she was going to start trembling soon and stumble if she got lost in him. It was so easy to do so, since he was so lost himself. She let him tag along in her games, but she never knew where she was going anyway. She enjoyed having him fall over her. She vaguely wondered if he had even managed to fall for her. However, she was close to falling herself, although she labeled it as just a bit of drunken lust. He was deceptively strong: she knew he spent a good hour of the day in the practice ring and his coiled muscles were exciting, unexplored territories. He was close to her, but not close enough for Astra, so she pulled his head to her chest to listen to her heart. A petty excuse, but he happily complied and they seemed to be rendered breathless by each other. It was exciting indeed, but dangerous. Even in her drunken stupor, Astra realized that they were walking on a tight-rope.

"Dude, we are soooooooo drunk. I am talking crazy!" she proclaimed, with hand motions and all. She hopped off of the couch, putting distance between both of them. "Between the two of us we managed to consume fifty-five and a half drinks."

"Good to know you can still do arithmetic while inebriated."

"One of my many talents."

"Oh, do tell more." And so the conversation continued randomly and illogically from there until they both came to the consensus that it would be far too dangerous to try and go back to their respective rooms.

"I'll probably run into a suit of armor and you may get the urge to tattle on us!" accused Astra.

"Will not!"

"Will too!" So, they decided to sleep on the couch, each curling up on an opposite end. After arguing over the blanket for a minute, Caspian relented and let her monopolize it.

"Take it! You're impossibly beautiful anyway!" He was not sure how this made any sense, but it felt right to say it anyway.

The next morning—or afternoon, it probably was—Caspian woke up with his head spinning and Astra snoring at the opposite end of the couch. He felt his stomach lurch and ran to the nearest container, which happened to be a vase.

"What the hell?" Astra groggily groaned. She got up, realized that Caspian had vomited, and then her face paled. She rushed over, grabbed the vase from him and threw up in it herself. She wiped the corner of her mouth and handed the vase back to him, taking turns vomiting. "Isn't this fun?" she asked after hurling.

"No," replied Caspian as he emptied the contents of his stomach, but it was a half-truth. Indeed, the vomiting was not fun, but his attempts to recollect the previous night brought forth the sound of heartbeats and warm skin. And although he did not quite remember it all, he thought it must have been great fun.


Ole! Three cheers for alcohol induced sexual tension! Please review!