Bienvenidos a todos,
welcome (back?) everybody :)
The following eleven chapters will explore Caspian's past, from his childhood and youth in Telmar to becoming the King of Narnia. This can be read as a prequel of my main story about Caspian's life, 'La Vida Telmarina', yet it is not necessary to know it.
Trigger warning: In this chapter we'll get to know Caspian's parents, and the dark side of their marriage. This story includes topics such as domestic violence and murder. (Well, obviously, thank you, Miraz …).
That being said, please don't worry — this story is mainly about friendship and young folks finding their way, and love and joy and celebrating life!
Whenever you see a number in brackets, you can find a translation at the end of the chapter.
Have fun! And in case you like what you read, consider letting me know :)
Chapter 1
Shadows
"¡Cállate, no lo quiero oír!" (1)
Whenever his father's voice would sound that gruff, it gave Caspian – no older than five – chills.
He kept staring at the dark wooden panelling of the high ceilings and the bare stone walls of the grey castle, yet the sad sight of it could not all distract him from his parents' quarrel in the royal chambers. He could not understand their words behind closed doors, but he did not have to. As young as he was, he could tell that his father was raging mad.
His Mamá, on the other hand, was sounding tired. Frustrated for sure. She had a lot of love in her heart, and she gave it all to her son. Her marriage, however, was not a happy one.
The King was no man of great emotion, he had never been particularly gentle with his Queen. But today he seemed to be unusually impulsive …
"Why won't you believe me just this once? You cannot trust him!" She kept repeating that to her husband in vain. "I know he's your brother and I know you don't want to believe it, but he is cold-blooded and hungry for power – I can see it in his eyes!"
"Stop it, Lykiana, just stop!" the King all but shouted. "I'm warning you, not another bad word about Miraz!"
"But don't you see how he's looking at you, and even at your son?" she asked in utter disbelief. "You're a thorn in his side! You, the King! Just like he is! Your son, the rightful heir to the throne!"
All of a sudden, Caspian could hear her moan, and he knew exactly that his father must have grabbed her firmly, and subsequently, she was likely forced to look at him. The King had done it before, even in Caspian's presence, and it was a pattern that would repeat itself more frequently by the day.
"Miraz simply doesn't approve of how you pamper the boy – and neither do I," the King hissed. "You seem to hate our ancestors, otherwise you wouldn't constantly try to teach him the exact opposite of our traditions and values!"
"Because he is to learn what's right and wrong?"
"Do not push me," he growled. "His upbringing will be just like mine. So don't dare to secretly exempt him from the exercises of my military officers again!"
"He's only five – he's still a child, not a soldier, Caspian! He's hardly as heavy as the bows they want him to shoot with! He can't march with grown men, let alone for hours, don't you see that? Even some of your Lords took pity on him!"
"Every beginning is hard," the King said, remaining unimpressed. "But he's tougher than you think and what doesn't kill him makes him stronger. My son will be brought up like any other heir of my family, and someday he'll thank me for it."
"Do you really believe that?" Lykiana snorted, then she suddenly whined in pain. "Caspian, you're hurting me!"
"¡Escúchame!" he said. "There's nothing to discuss. You do as I say, just like our son! And you will apologize to my brother, for your impudence tonight – whether you like it or not!" (2)
"By no means!" she protested. "He's called me bruja gitana, in front of everyone! And I'm the one to apologize?" (3)
"You have accused him of unthinkable betrayal, of high treason, in front of everyone! He wouldn't ever hurt me – he's my brother, our son's uncle!"
"That's precisely what makes it so grotesque!" she shouted. "Be angry with me as much as you like, that's fine, but I tell you! If you don't see Miraz for what he really is, your son will soon grow up without his father!"
The next thing Caspian could hear was a dull blow, cutting to the bone.
The door was swung open in the very next moment and just when the King wanted to swiftly set off, he saw his son's face. His rage made way for consternation at once. He sighed as he bent down to the Prince, asking, "Did you hear us?"
Caspian could neither nod nor shake his head, he was just looking at his father with big round eyes.
"Of course you did …" the King concluded, letting out a harsh breath. He went on to stroke his son's dark hair and said, "You're my flesh and blood, my pride and joy, and I will always be grateful to your mother for you – don't ever forget that. Take care of her, will you? I didn't mean to hurt her …"
Caspian gulped and simply nodded when his father rose again. He went on and would not look back when his son hurried into the chambers next door just to find his Mother lying on the floor.
As gentle, little hands were cupping her face, she was soon regaining consciousness.
"Mamá, despiértate," Caspian pleaded under his breath. "You have to wake up, Mamá!" (4)
It had not been long ago when he had realized that the bruises he occasionally noticed on her body were his father's doing. But the King had never gone that far before – or at least that was what he believed.
"Cariño," she sighed, trying to put on a brave face. She drew in a deep breath as she took to leaning onto the bed, still somewhat dazed. "You shouldn't have witnessed that …"
"He said he didn't mean to hurt you," Caspian repeated his father's words, clearly overwhelmed.
"And we'll just believe him, cariño," she forced herself to say with a smile and hugged him to her so he could not see her tears.
Caspian, however, went on to ask the very question to which his Mamá knew no answer. "What if it happens again?"
"He's the King, pequeñito," she eventually said wearily.
"But he mustn't hurt you …" Caspian shook his head, detaching himself from her to take a look at her wrists. He could still tell where his father had held her.
"You're my sunshine, do you know that?" she said in an attempt to distract him, hastily hiding the King's traces under the embroidered sleeves of her dress. "Don't worry about me."
Too many loose strands of her updo kept falling in her face, so she removed the hairpin from her dark curls to put it onto the chest of drawers right next to them. Then she took Caspian by the shoulders and said, "One day you'll be the hope of your people, and you'll see the faults of our ancestors – I know it. You're destined to do great things. You won't be like the Kings before you …"
"How do you know?" he asked.
She could not suppress a quiet laugh. "I'm your Mamá, I can feel it," she replied and hugged him tightly to her again. "Never doubt that, cariño."
On her way to the ballroom, each of her footsteps was echoing on the stone floors. Only the horizon's bitter-sweet, orange dusk – visible from every window of the castle around that time of day – would remind her of her quiet longing for happiness and love.
But the Queen put all doubts about her life aside rather strictly. For Caspian. The only good thing she ever had to thank the King for. She endured it all for her son, and she simply had to focus. She had to stay clear-headed and wait for Miraz to finally make an obvious mistake.
She could already picture the triumphant smile on his face too well – to be forced to apologize to him would be worse than choking on her own tongue. Yet she would have to face this ridiculous humiliation despite her conclusions about the King's brother.
Why did nobody seem to notice how taunting and insidious he was? Why did not one soul believe her whenever she claimed that he was up to no good? She had felt paranoid for weeks, she had constantly been looking over her shoulder – because she could have sworn that someone was behind her. After her. It had to be a stitch-up, she was almost certain. Miraz came closer and closer, step by step, yet he managed to hide in the shadows. He was not a man to underestimate and yet his brother kept making that foolish mistake.
When she arrived in front of the ballroom she was by all means hesitant to enter. She was smoothing down her skirt one last time, trying to gather herself, so lost in thought that she almost winced when she felt a sudden hand on her shoulder.
Had she really been followed? Was she going crazy?
"It's just me, I didn't mean to scare you," the King hurried to say, no less surprised by her unexpected reaction.
It took a moment for her heartbeat to slow down again. However when it did, her stomach cramped at the mere sight of the King.
"¿Estás bien?" he quietly asked, his eyes holding quite an amount of guilt. "Have I … Have I hurt you?" (5)
She was too proud to admit the truth to the man who had inflicted pain on her for years – and for the life of her, she did not know what to answer to that question.
The King could clearly see the contempt on her face, even while she aimed to hide it. "Lo siento mucho, querida," he tried to make up for it, though not even too deep down he knew well that he could never apologize enough for the mistakes he kept making. (6)
"Querida …" She was lethargic to even repeat it. "If you truly loved me, you wouldn't be able to raise your hand on me."
"It won't happen again," he vowed, as so often, and took her hands in his. She let it happen – what choice did she have after all? "It's no excuse, but … I cannot tolerate you speaking like that when it comes to Miraz. And you know."
The King was too oblivious to see the truth – that being Miraz' utmost displeasure at the fact that he was the second-born son. Caspian had been defending and supporting his younger brother for all his life. And the King was only what his family had formed him to be, but still the Queen could not forgive him for his sins. If it had not been for her son, she would have fled her marriage a long time ago. But she could not live without her child and leaving with him was completely out of the question – not only because she would miss him every second, but also because the whole Kingdom would recognize Telmar's Crown Prince and they would be found in no time …
"I promise you I'll keep him in line," the King went on, "Miraz won't insult you ever again, neither in private, nor in public. Believe me. But in return, I expect you to do the same, querida."
She was hesitant, but she eventually nodded. "If I do, will you reconsider your decision regarding our son's participation in the military exercises?" She held her breath, then she added, "Please?"
"He's lucky to have you as a mother," he said, giving her a half-smile. "I'll give it another thought …"
"Lykiana," Miraz greeted her in mock euphoria, however he could not quite hide the darkness that was so naturally surrounding him. "We were thinking along the same lines, huh? Fresh air under starlit skies …"
He joined her on the ballroom's spacious terrace, otherwise empty, positioning himself next to the Queen. They had already exchanged hypocritical apologies as demanded, right at the beginning of the dinner in front of the curious eyes of the Telmarine nobility.
"What a brilliant display of your acting skills," he praised her, leaning over the railing of the terrace a little bit more to make himself comfortable.
"Oh, rest assured the same applies to you, Miraz," she shot back. "No one could ever tell just how much you despise me after those flowery words of yours."
"Oh, I beg of you," he said, his eyes holding a glint of pleasure. "I don't despise you, my dear – that would never occur to me, as a part of your past …"
She loathed how bad she was at hiding her emotions, and especially at these words she could no longer bear to look at him. Gazing into the stars instead, she tried not to let him see her concern.
"Oh, don't worry, our secret has been safe with me for years," he said and gave her a dirty smile. He drew closer, much too close, and, lost in thought, he began to wrap one of her loose strands of hair around his finger. "My brother had no idea about us. He was just fascinated by your pretty, angelic face," he thought out loud and bit his lips. "He didn't care about you not being a noble. And he couldn't even imagine that we had known each other for quite some time already. But how could he have guessed that a decent man like me had traveled to the Calormene border? How could he have guessed how much we've enjoyed the silence of the night?"
She could not stand his warm breath on her skin any moment longer, so she pushed his hand away at last and hissed, "You didn't bother to stand by your love when it mattered, Miraz! Your rank has always been more important to you than anything else, so don't mention silence like that again when it's all you've ever known!"
"There were days I bitterly regretted my decision." He gave a mirthless laugh and, for the first time that evening, she believed she could see sincerity shining through. "But that doesn't matter any more. There's no turning back."
"No," she agreed, "but it changed you. A lot. It's almost haunting." (7)
"Haunting?" he sneered. "Interesting choice of words. Makes me think of ghosts … Do you sometimes hear or see them?"
Every word was laced with sarcasm, and the way he said it, she knew the truth at last. She was not paranoid …
He smiled, his gaze piercing into her soul. "Do my ghosts leave traces?"
She had no doubts anymore, it was crystal clear to her what he was talking about.
The disorder in her chambers had, again and again, been hardly noticeable, and inexplicable at that. Things would disappear and reappear in other rooms, as if by magic. The King did not notice any of it, unlike Lykiana. And it gave her chills to only think about the underlying warning. Miraz shadows kept drawing nearer, each day, incessantly.
"I hear and see a lot, Miraz," she nevertheless returned as calmly as she could. "Even if no one else does."
"You know what?" His distant look into the mountains did not make his voice less stern. "Astuteness can have disastrous effects …"
"So should I be afraid now?" she asked, clearly disgusted by his words.
"Well, I hate to say it, but … now and then, when I've had a drink or two, I sometimes open my mouth too wide – even in front of my brother. And, after all these years, wouldn't it be too bad if he learned about our past?"
"You would've told him long ago hadn't you feared his reaction just as much," she said, raising her chin. "You're well aware that you can't do me more harm than yourself. You know him, your brother surely is no saint, he's jealous and possessive, but he would forgive the mother of his only son rather than you. So I guess I should tell him myself – maybe it would make him see who his brother really is …"
Miraz chuckled, his expression was almost an approving one. "You've always been clever, I'll give you that." He cracked his head to one side, then he lowered his face to her again. "But you're really bad at taking care of yourself. Your words just prove that I have to use other means to prevent you from pointing your pretty little finger at me again. I won't let you cause another scene like today, Lykiana. You can't just tell my brother to watch his back. I won't let you endanger everything I've worked for."
"You don't have one bit of decency left in you," she said under her breath.
"Decency leads to dead ends," he simply replied. "That's why I need you to keep your mouth shut."
Lykiana's disgust gradually blossomed into angst. He knew that only the stars could hear him and that he had nothing to fear, even if he boldly threatened her beloved and her.
"Your words are sound and fury." She frowned. "No honest man would ever think that way."
"Very true," Miraz leered. "You see me as I really am. Dishonest. But nobody believes you, my love. Nobody believes in ghost stories."
"Maybe," she admitted. "But since we both know that your minions are not really ghosts, there will be traces. Sooner or later."
"Sooner or later?" he asked and his cold look almost made her shiver. "Might be sooner than you think, my dear. Your mistrust is annoying and you've been playing with fire long enough for my taste."
"No temo fuego, Miraz," she retorted though she felt utterly trapped. (7)
And, oddly enough, something about that statement of hers caused a spark – all of a sudden he looked at her almost longingly. "I know that you're fearless," he said, "I've always adored that about you. You're a force of nature." She held his gaze proudly as he went on, "But so am I."
She could tell just how serious he was, and only when he noticed it he quickly hid behind a scornful smile again.
"I'd better accompany you back to the ballroom now, hm? We're surely missed already."
"I know the way back, don't bother," she replied, seemingly unimpressed, as she turned her back on him.
Miraz was watching her leave with all his peace of mind. He never wanted to hurt her, but she gave him no choice. He could see it in her eyes – she knew what he was capable of, and he could not ignore that.
"Mamá, are you awake?"
Caspian closed the door behind him quietly to approach her bed.
She was up, she could not sleep a wink. Miraz' words and his true colors scared her, more than she liked to admit, and the worst part was that her hands were completely tied.
"You're obviously not asleep like you're supposed to be, cariño," she tried to sound lightly and lifted him up so he could sit next to her on the bed. Knowing that her son was with her made everything easier at once, and she held him tightly in her arms as though he was her anchor.
"Is Papá with friends again?" Caspian asked, still too young to be aware of the meaning of those words. And thus the Queen only nodded. She did not want Caspian to be forced to speak of his father's mistresses at such a young age, and so she was at least comforted by the euphemistic terminology they managed to use.
"He is," Lykiana said, forcing a smile. "And he won't come back anytime soon. But thanks to you I'm not alone anymore. What is it, cariño? Why can't you sleep?"
"No quiero dormir," Caspian said as he snuggled closer to her, almost as if he was afraid. "Acabo de leer una leyenda …" (8)
"You can't sleep because of a Leyenda?" She could not help but chuckle. "Oh, cariño, those are just scary stories people tell for fun, nothing more. What scares you?"
"Santa Compaña," Caspian admitted, and Lykiana stopped laughing at once.
"Who told you about that story?" she hastily asked.
Caspian only gave a half-shrug. "There was a parchment underneath my door …"
The stories held that Santa Compaña, in the form of ghostly apparitions, would announce the imminent death. So whoever had shared this Leyenda with the Prince either had a macabre sense of humor – or consciously conveyed a grotesque message.
The Queen could feel panic rise within her, and fear crawl up. But it was not ghosts or Santa Compaña who had threatened her son, it was flesh and blood.
Miraz.
"Did you see who put it there, or did you hear anything?" Lykiana wanted to know.
"No," Caspian said anxiously. "Maybe a ghost?"
"No, cariño." She shook her head firmly. "Ghosts are not real. That's just superstition, do you hear me? Don't be afraid of Leyendas or ghosts! Beware of people, even if you think you can trust them …"
"So nobody dies tonight?" Caspian's eyes widened, and it almost broke Lykiana's heart. She shook her head and held him in her arms.
"No, over my dead body," she mumbled, inwardly cursing the King for his absence, his ignorance and his frivolous trust in a man without a conscience.
She was closing her eyes to gather herself for a moment, but suddenly she was startled as something sharp stung into her back.
Caspian looked up at her and wanted to know what happened, but she did not answer immediately.
She reached for her back and a moment later she held the very hairpin in her hand that she herself had placed on the chest of drawers in the late afternoon. She was staring at it, knowing well it was further evidence of all her suspicions – and yet a hairpin would never make anyone believe her. If she was to speak up, everybody would assume she had just thoughtlessly misplaced the needle. But in her bed? Another clear warning left her helpless.
She was bleeding a bit, but that was not important now. Miraz had threatened her son and no matter the consequences, she had to finally act.
"Come, come, we'll have to look for Papá," she told Caspian and got up.
But out of nowhere her mouth felt terribly dry. Was it the fear, almost paralyzing her? For a moment there she believed she should drink a sip of water, but in her mistrust she suspected it might be poisoned.
"Why do we have to look for him?" Caspian asked as he stood up as well.
"He must finally listen, cariño," Lykiana said, but she had to briefly lean against the cold stone wall of her chambers to catch her breath again. Her legs got heavy and her lungs could hardly be filled with air. Unexpected fatigue was making her whole body stand still.
"Mamá? What's wrong?"
It was nothing but intuition, yet she let her gaze wander back to the hairpin – and scales fell from her eyes immediately. Miraz did not want her son. Not yet, at least – he wanted her. Neither did he have to poison water. He only needed to wet an inconspicuous needle in poison and place it in her bed.
Who would ever suspect anything once she could no longer tell the tale?
"Caspian, listen, I need you to hurry. Wake my maid up, she must accompany you – find your father," Lykiana said under her breath and let herself sink to the ground along the wall. Her legs could no longer hold her up as her heartbeat kept shooting the poison through her veins with every pump.
"Mamá?" Caspian tried to help her up in vain. "Mamá, what is it?"
"You have to do what I've just said." She tried her best to stay calm. "Do you understand? Don't you go alone!"
Her son's black eyes swam with tears in eerie intuition, but she put her index finger on his lips, smiling wearily. "Everything's going to be alright, cariño. But you have to hurry up …"
And that he did.
Caspian had found his father with two women in his arms in the east wing of the castle, and he had hastily told the King to follow him – but they were too late. And the Prince could not explain what had happened, he knew nothing of poison, or even Miraz's betrayal …
But as Lykiana's time was up, also Caspian's heart was broken for the first time in his life.
Translations:
1. Cállate, no lo quiero oír / Stop talKing, I don't want to hear that!
2. Escúchame / Listen up
3. Bruja gitana / Gypsy witch
4. Despiértate / Get up
5. ¿Estás bien? / Are you alright?
6. Lo siento mucho, querida / I'm very sorry, love
7. No temo fuego / I'm not afraid of fire
8. No quiero dormir, acabo de leer una leyenda / I don't want to sleep, I've just read a folk tale / scary story