J.M.J.

You're Not Exactly What I Expected

"Consequently, when the Pevensie children had returned to Narnia last time for their second visit, it was (for the Narnians) as if King Arthur came back to Britain, as some people say he will."

~C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

The moon was very bright as it shone through the windows of the old castle. In one room, the crosspieces of the window cast an odd shadow over a bed on the other side of the room. A four-year-old prince named Caspian was sitting up in that bed, clutching the blankets in front of him tightly. He didn't dare lie down or go to sleep, not on a night like this.

Perhaps it was strange that a fine night with such a brilliant moon should be so frightening to him. He slept through thunderstorms with no problem, even when the wind was whistling eerily through gaps in the masonry or the rain was beating mercilessly against the windowpane. It was the nights that the moon shone full on his bed that Caspian feared. It wasn't a random fear, either – at least not to a four-year-old boy.

Caspian didn't remember anything about his mother, who had died a little more than two years earlier. All he remembered was that it was on a fine, clear night like this, and he remembered the moon shining on his bed. For all he knew, that had something to do with what happened to her. Maybe it had even caused her to die. The moonlight was so strange and there were so many strange shadows in it, the theory seemed to make sense. So, every night like this, Caspian would cling to the blankets on his bed as if they could save him from whatever evil the moon awakened.

How long he had been there like that would have been hard to guess. These nights always lasted forever. Eventually, Caspian heard a step on the other side of his door going into his antechamber. He froze. The door began to open, and he cried out fearfully and threw the blankets over his head.

"Caspian? Why are you awake so late?" The voice was the only one in the world that would comfort him just now. It was the voice of his father.

Caspian jumped out of bed and ran to him. His father picked him up and then sat down on the edge of the bed with him in his lap.

"You're not afraid, are you?" his father asked.

"N-no," Caspian stuttered. Then he felt a surge of guilt at the fib and asked, "You're not going to leave, Father? It's not going to take you away?"

"What's not going to take me away?"

"The moon." Caspian buried his face against his father, trying to block out the eerie light.

Caspian's father could see his son's distress, but he could not help laughing softly. "Of course not, Caspian. The moon's nothing to be afraid of."

The little prince was not convinced. "What if it takes you away and I can't remember you, like Mother?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't remember Mother," Caspian said. "The moon made me forget."

"No, it didn't. You were very little when your mother died. When you're that little, you can hardly ever remember things. The moon didn't make you forget, and it didn't take your mother away, either. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Are you sure?" Caspian felt a little braver with his father's reassurances, but he still clung to him tightly.

"I'm sure."

"Please don't leave," Caspian begged him, still not completely convinced. "Please stay."

"I won't leave," his father assured him.

He tucked Caspian back into bed, but he continued to sit on the edge. For a long time, Caspian could not sleep, but his father remained with him the entire time. Finally, Caspian began to get a little sleepy. His father, perhaps hoping that his son would fall asleep soon, began to sing softly to him. He didn't have a very good voice, but that didn't matter to Caspian, who loved his father's voice anyway. The song was a very old song, from before the Telmarines had come to Narnia, and it was about how King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant had reigned in their castle of Cair Paravel on the shores of the Eastern Sea. Caspian had never heard of these people or places other than in the song, and they seemed like they were a part of a fairyland, mysterious and distant, but all the more exciting for all of that. He drifted off to sleep as his father continued to sing, and he dreamt of a magical time when there were two kings and two queens in Narnia.

Three years later

Caspian trembled a little as he looked out over the landscape from the highest tower of the castle. It looked strange and unnatural in the bright moonlight, and Caspian's old fears of the moon came back to him. At the age of seven, he was old enough now to realize that it was a silly thing to be afraid of, but he couldn't change how the moonlight reminded him of his mother's death, and now of his father's, too. His father had also died on a brilliant moonlight night, not long after he had learned about Caspian's fear of the moonlight and had had bedcurtains hung up for Caspian to draw when the moon was bright.

Because of all that, Caspian had not been very excited when his tutor, Doctor Cornelius, had suggested coming up on top of the tower to look at the star tonight. Other times, Caspian had always been eager to go, since it was a bit of an adventure, but those nights, the moon had always been smaller and shining less brightly, if it shone at all.

"The moon's too bright, Professor," Caspian complained. "I can't see very many stars."

"No, I suppose not," Doctor Cornelius replied. "I thought it was time we studied the moon itself."

"What's there to study?" Caspian asked, but his professor didn't reply. He was a discerning enough man to have realized that Caspian had no love for the moon and that the best way to overcome a fear is to study its object and become used to it.

They stood looking at the moon for a long time, the professor occasionally telling Caspian things about it. Caspian was miserable the entire time, but he refused to say a word. He didn't realize that his tutor knew of his fears, and he didn't want to give it away. Finally, however, he could bear it no longer. Doctor Cornelius often brought him up here to talk about Old Narnia and the days of the kings and queens, which Caspian's uncle Miraz had forbidden.

"Tell me again about King Peter and the others," Caspian requested. "What were they like?"

"They were great kings and queens," the professor told him. "King Peter and King Edmund were both great, tall, and strongly-built men. They were great warriors, too, and in all their reign hardly an enemy dared to attack them. The very sight of them was enough to frighten any enemies into surrendering, and their reign was peaceful and prosperous. Queen Susan and Queen Lucy were beautiful and gracious, gentle and wise. Every prince of that time sought to marry one or the other of them. Even so, they would sometimes accompany their brothers in battle, where they could fight as well as any man. The world doesn't know any men or women like them anymore."

Caspian listened eagerly, taking in every word. He had been delighted when his tutor had first begun telling him all about the kings and queens, for he had always been very curious about them because of his father's song. He spent hours imagining what they had looked like and spoken like. Clearly, the kings were both at least a head taller than the tallest of the Telmarines, and the queens were so much more beautiful than any of their women that the Telmarines would have taken them for goddesses. They must have spoken solemnly and gravely, every one of their words full of wisdom. Even their jests must have been dignified and solemn. Caspian sometimes thought that he would be a little afraid to meet them, but that wouldn't have mattered. It was fitting to be a little afraid of great heroes, and it was fitting for them to be wise and gracious, merciful and solemn.

Many years later

Aslan's How was bathed in moonlight that night. After all, the moon was only a day or two from being full. Caspian was sitting high up on the giant mound, gazing out over the forest in front of him with its confusing mixture of shadow and moonlight. He had long ago learned not to fear the moonlight. In fact, because of Doctor Cornelius, it had come to remind him as much of their long nighttime talks about Old Narnia up in the high tower of the castle as it did of his parents' deaths. Now it was always bittersweet to be awake when the moon was shining, and that certainly reflected how Caspian felt tonight.

So much had happened in the last weeks – his midnight flight from Miraz's castle, Doctor Cornelius giving him Queen Susan's horn and him blowing it, meeting Trufflehunter and Glenstorm and Reepicheep and all the other Narnians, building the Narnians up into an army, making Aslan's How their fortress, and now this. He knew from Doctor Cornelius's stories – and the Narnians had told him, too – that blowing the horn could summon the King and Queens of Old, and possibly even Aslan. Many of them were half-expecting the Great Lion to appear at the door of Aslan's How with King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy behind him. When that happened, they had been certain it would take no time at all for the Telmarines to surrender unconditionally and perhaps there wouldn't be any need of fighting at all.

Then the kings and queens had actually come, without Aslan, moreover. Caspian felt his lip, which was still split from where King Peter had hit him earlier that day. Of course, when he had first seen Peter, he had no way of knowing that he was the legendary High King of Narnia. Caspian didn't think he was even as old as he was. Peter and the others were practically children, not the great warriors that Caspian had always imagined them to be. They brought no armor with them and hardly any weapons, other than Peter and Edmund's sword and shields, Susan's bow and arrows, and Lucy's dagger. Ordinarily, Caspian would have been delighted to have more unexpected recruits and so he couldn't turn down their offer to help, but for the legendary Kings and Queens of Old to turn out to be practically children! The discouragement was so great and the help they could offer was undoubtedly so small that Caspian almost wished they hadn't come at all.

It wasn't just that they were children, either. Caspian had never thought himself a great warrior, but he had very nearly gotten the better of King Peter in their fight. The legendary king whom Caspian had always imagined would have had him disarmed in moments. Peter had obviously been very put out about it, too. Maybe he had a good reason. After all, nobody likes being suddenly attacked. Still, Peter's attitude toward Caspian hadn't improved all day. He clearly thought Caspian didn't know what he was doing. Worse than that, the Narnians seemed very eager to follow Peter, and Caspian felt that he was being put in the background of his attempt to take back his own throne.

Then, also, the others were so ordinary. When he had commented that the kings and queens weren't what he had expected, King Edmund had replied jokingly, "Neither are you." Perhaps it wasn't such an unusual joke for a boy to make, but it was jarring coming from one of the ancient kings. Queen Lucy's first comment had been how "cute" Reepicheep was, a sentiment that would have been normal for any other girl her age, but for a legendary queen! It didn't make sense.

The only one who seemed to live up to the legend at all was Queen Susan. She was certainly beautiful enough. Perhaps not quite in the way that Caspian had always imagined, being that her beauty was more human than he had ever imagined, but it was not any the less for it. Yet, even that couldn't make up for Caspian's disappointment at finding that his heroes were only human.

A few days later

Caspian clasped his hand over his arm. During the battle, he could ignore the pain, but now that the excitement was over, he realized how very much it hurt. Yet, even so, the pain in his arm was nothing compared to how furious he was. That was uppermost in his mind just now, and it made it worse that no one spoke to him to distract him from it. Of course, no one spoke because they had to go as quickly and quietly and in as small groups as possible to escape the Telmarines who might try to follow them and finish them off after the Narnians' disastrous attack on the castle. The moonlight both helped and hindered in this. It would make it easier to make their way quickly, but it would also make it easier for the Telmarines to follow them. They'd already lost enough soldiers that an attack from the rear might finish them off.

That hadn't been Caspian's fault. Caspian had wanted to stay at Aslan's How, where they had the advantage. It was Peter who had insisted on trying to attack Miraz in his own castle. It had been a mad idea, and Caspian knew it. He would have never tried it if it had been left up to him.

Yes, it was all Peter's fault. The great, legendary High King of Narnia, and he turned out to be just an over-confident kid with no concept of strategy, whose inexperience had cost so many of the Narnians their lives tonight! It made Caspian almost shake with anger to think of it. They would have all been better off if he had never blown that horn!

The next day

The moon was just setting, and dawn was getting close, and once again Caspian was sitting high up on the outside of Aslan's How, thinking things over. His fury with Peter from the night before had left him, but he was in no less turmoil. He didn't know what to think now.

Peter had made a mistake; that much was clear. But Caspian realized now that it was clear to Peter, too. All day and most of the night, Peter hadn't said much, but his bearing was evidence enough that he knew he had been wrong. For the first time, Caspian thought he understood him.

That, of course, was largely because Caspian had felt the same way all day long. He had been wrong to ruin Peter's whole plan the way he had – maybe the plan would have worked if Caspian had done his part. He was humiliated enough to realize that now. But worse than that was what had happened this morning, in the room with the Stone Table. At least, it had nearly been worse, if it hadn't been for Peter, Edmund, Lucy, and Trumpkin. If he'd known that Nikabrik's plan was to resurrect the White Witch, Caspian would have refused to cooperate altogether, of course. He should have guessed, though, when he'd seen the hag and the werewolf. He should have known better than to listen to them. What else could have they had in mind besides using black magic? They hadn't come as reinforcements, obviously.

Caspian had just been so angry about the night raid and Peter blaming him for what had happened. He wanted to get even with Peter, to show him that he didn't need him, that he would be a better king. He had let it convince him that Nikabrik had some plan he could go along with. Because of that, he'd almost allowed a far greater evil than Miraz be unleashed in Narnia, one that would have caused enough devastation to make Peter's night raid look like a very small mistake. And it had been Peter, Edmund, and Lucy who had kept this from happening.

He sighed and looked down at his hands. He'd failed the Narnians, and it had been their legendary kings and queens who had saved them after all. They may not have been so perfect as Caspian had always imagined, but he was beginning to see now that the legends had far more truth to them than he had supposed.

A few weeks later

"And then the Prince kissed the Princess, and she and everyone else in the castle woke up. The Prince and the Princess were married, and they lived happily ever after."

Caspian listened attentively as Lucy finished the tale. She was a good storyteller, and all the Narnians' attention had been held firmly as she had been telling them stories of the Golden Age of Narnia and ancient Narnian stories that had long been forgotten, as well as stories from her own world. Even their noisy victory celebrations had been quieted so that they could hear every word.

At the end of this story, though, Lucy had grown tired and didn't want to tell any more stories that night. She came back to sit down with her brothers and sister and Caspian.

"You know a lot of good stories," Caspian said. "We should have them written down so that they're not forgotten."

"We had them all written down at Cair Paravel," Lucy replied.

"I don't suppose the books are still there, though," Susan said. "They must have all crumbled away with age by now."

"I wish it was our schoolbooks that had crumbled away instead." Edmund made a face. "Latin and algebra and history."

Caspian chuckled. "I have a few books I could add to that. My professor showed me the books that my uncle wanted me to be taught out of. Fortunately, he didn't use them. Those history books, especially. There was hardly a word of truth in any of them. And the natural history, too!" He went on to tell them some of the things that these books had claimed, including tales of the dangerous beasts that supposedly lived in the woods and the sea, exaggerated accounts of the dangers of putting to sea, and stories of raids from Galmian or Terebinthian pirates on the shores of the Eastern Sea that had cause the Telmarines, despite their "heroic struggles" against these invaders, to move inland. He may have exaggerated a bit how ridiculous these stories were, as they would have been rather dull otherwise, and the effect was that they were so absurd that before long, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were laughing till the tears came.

Naturally, Caspian joined in on their laughter, but even as he laughed and spoke, he realized something with a kind of shock. He had always imagined the Kings and Queens of Old to be something like the Telmarine nobles – grave and solemn, although far wiser and more merciful than they. He had expected them to be noble. He had expected them to be heroes. He had expected them to be greater men and women than any he had ever met. He had never expected them to be friends. But he was glad of it that High King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant were also Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy, some of the dearest friends he had ever had.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story or have any constructive criticism for me, I'd love to hear it in a review.

I've been thinking about King Arthur a lot later (for reasons), and so naturally, being a Narnia fan, I thought of the quote that I began this story with. I wanted to explore a little more deeply what it would have been like for Caspian to go from thinking of the Pevensies as distant, legendary heroes to being his friends, so this is what happened. I hope you enjoyed it!