A/N: Chapter 2 here, I know it's been a while, I got really distracted with exams and the lot, so sorry for the delay. Thanks for your patience!
Chapter 2: Colours Of The Wind
Narnia's summer sun was gracious, and the euphoria of the day's prior victory lingered like a sweet breeze amongst the Narnians. Susan held Lucy's hand as the latter splashed in the water, wetting the hems of their dresses. She smiled as her younger sister played in the banks of the Great River, shrieking in fervently missed childish delight. The water was cold and delicious against her bare feet, lapping up against her ankles in little waves.
Across the ridges of eroded soil and collapsed wooden battlements, she caught Caspian's gaze, dark and glimmering with mischief. She yelped as the young man leapt from his perch on the pile of rubbled logs and landed in a spectacular fashion right next to her, causing the nearby river water to leap up and soak her head to toe.
"Hello, my Queen," he offered a suave bow to her, and despite his act of gallantry, she could hear the taunt in his tone. "Need I aid the poor damsel out of these treacherous waters?"
Susan glared at him, feigning anger as she slowly stepped towards him. Nobody else dared to disrespect a Queen of Old. In a way, it was... refreshing. "It is not wise, Your Highness," she sneered, "to use the entirety of one's vocabulary in a single sentence."
"Oh, I'm most gravely wounded," he splayed a hand across his heart, the corner of his lips curling up.
If Caspian was mildly affronted, he didn't show it, smirking at her the way Susan imagined Lucifer would have smiled, moments before he was cast from Heaven.
She growled then, and with a look almost as spirited as his own, pushed him backwards into the water. He must have not anticipated the move, for he was much too strong for someone of her might to topple, and he fell back into the water with a resounding splash. She would later feel bad about the savage rush of satisfaction that warmed her cheeks at the shock on his face.
Or then again, maybe she wouldn't.
Her expression hardened into laughter as Caspian's face registered the abrupt change of temperature. And suddenly Queen Susan the Gentle was not gentle at all, tackling the Prince further into the water with a ferocious war cry as Lucy laughed beside them.
He responded by yelling loudly, as the two wrestled in the shallows. Eventually, Susan ended up with her stomach in the water, elbow crooked in a playful chokehold around Caspian's neck as he resisted his head against her shoulder, trying to regain his stance as he struggled to his knees. Although Caspian could easily beat her in terms of brute strength, Susan had the leverage, and using a trick she learnt from martial arts classes years ago, she bent his knees back with her foot to prevent him from struggling to his feet.
Lucy cheered as her sister pinned the Prince on his back, before she hopped away, jumping onto Glenstorm's back as the centaur bathed in the crystalline water to the far side of the river.
"Ow, ow, fine, fine!" Caspian declared, trying to roll over but failing as his hands remained trapped beneath him. "I concede!"
"Hmm. And what was that you said earlier? That I was… what was the word you used… oh, a damsel?"
"Yes, alright, you're not a damsel," Caspian spluttered, as Susan pressed down slightly harder on his chest, "I regret saying that very much."
"Good," she released him slightly.
Caspian glared at her, his eyes dark under wet eyelashes. She could feel the hard muscles of his back, the broadness of his shoulders, despite his slender, lean figure. Susan was suddenly aware of the fact that she was straddling him in a rather inappropriate position, her elbows pressed up against the small of his back, a hand at the nape of his neck as the other pinned his two hands behind his waist. Her heart thudded curiously.
She let him go, releasing him as they fell back in the water behind her, both of them completely drenched from head to toe. Her eyes run the length of his body, grazing lightly over the dip of his hips and curves of his arms, the swell of his biceps. Water dripped down his neck, dark locks plastered to his forehead. Whether she liked to admit it or not, he was incredibly attractive. She studied the shadows his eyelashes cast on his high cheekbones, the way his jawline was angular, and not soft.
He was all angles, she thought, sharp and structured. Just like his words. She tore her eyes away from him, grateful that her cheeks were already red from exertion.
"You know," he mused, emptying a soaked boot into the water. "I like violent women."
Susan's mouth gaped open. "You're…"
"Devilishly handsome? Stunningly charismatic?"
"You're ridiculous. And worryingly demented."
"What was that earlier about using all of one's vocabulary..." he smirked.
"And dysfunctional. I forgot to mention that you are completely and utterly dysfunctional-"
"Well, you can't spell dysfunctional without 'fun', can you now?"
"Damn you," she muttered angrily, storming back to the bank.
She glanced back towards the sand, blushing slightly as she realized they had drawn a bit of attention from the crowd of onlooking Narnians. They averted their gaze quickly, resuming their work of clearing the Great River's banks.
From Glenstorm's back, Lucy giggled, lifting her hand up over her mouth as she watched the pair stagger out the river, the water weighing down their clothes and hair. Edmund seemed mildly repulsed as Peter pursed his lips, offering Caspian a stony look.
Susan pulled a face at her brothers, dragging her sister hurriedly out of the water.
She dried in the sun, next to Lucy and Edmund, whilst Peter and Caspian negotiated reparations from the Telmarines to compensate for their losses. When the day was over and the excitement had buzzed down, the five of them changed out of their dirty clothes, soiled with water, mud and blood.
Susan's dress was a simple blue cotton, stitched with white flowers and as soft as worn paper. She had retrieved it from her vault underneath Cair Paravel, cheeks warming over fond memories of the wind in her hair, the dress flapping around her ankles as she and Lucy raced through the forests near Glasswater on their morning rides.
She sighed, relishing the feel of the mellow sun on her face, the cloying air that smelt like freesia and jasmine, the soothing swishing sound of the water as it lapped up against the river's banks.
How she wished she could pause time and stay in that moment, surrounded by friends and the people she loved, in the place she adored more than anywhere else in the world. Her eyes drifted shut in the warmth, a pleasant drowsiness licking her eyelids.
"Susan," came a familiar voice beside her. It was a curious feeling, Susan thought, for although she had known him for only a short amount of time, his face and voice were as instinctual to her as her own brothers'. She heard what she assumed to be a Caspian flop down beside her with an audible thump.
"Mmhmm?" she sighed back, her tone one of languid question.
"What do you intend to do after all of this has blown over? All the reparations and treaties and economic crises, I mean? After life returns to normal?"
The question surprised her a little.
"I… I don't know," she frowned. And truly, she didn't.
Would she return to her normal life in the other realm, or would she remain here with Caspian and Trufflehunter and all her Narnian friends? The latter sounded nice. Although she would miss certain things about the other world, it was in Narnia where she felt truly herself. Where she could smile and run with wild abandon, with frenetic joy, where the land sang out and shook the very core of who she was. But would she be allowed to stay? What would be her role in Narnia if she were to remain? How would she even known that if she left, she would be able to return?
As much as Susan hated to admit it, her future troubled her. "Honestly," she continued, "I'm unsure."
"I always say that you should never to borrow tomorrow's worries today," Caspian sighed, as if reading her thoughts as he crossed his long legs on the sand. "Otherwise you'll just live a life of worries. And if I'm honest, that sounds like a life that would suck, big-time."
"Yeah," Susan found herself agreeing with the surprisingly eloquent statement, unsure of when they had slipped into informal speech, "yeah, I guess so. That's actually very thoughtful. Unfortunately."
Caspian peered over his shoulder at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "What? You think I'm not capable of mature and sagacious conversations?"
"'You' and 'mature' don't belong in the same sentence," Susan huffed, caught.
"You wound me, again," he drawled, "my self-esteem will forevermore remain marred."
Susan rolled her eyes. "Please. I doubt even the Jadis the White Witch herself could dent your ego."
Before Caspian could open his mouth to reply, a golden shadow blocked the sun from her eyelids, and the breeze shifted ever so slightly.
Aslan bowed his head before her, his tawny coat gleaming regally in the sun. "Peter, Susan." he said, turning to the two monarchs, "I must converse with you, my dear ones."
Susan bit her lip, for although Aslan's golden eyes were kind and full of warmth, there was a sombre element to his voice that seemed to darken the resplendent hours of fading sunlight. Glancing briefly at each other, the two Pevensie children rose to their feet, their younger siblings watching curiously from behind.
"What troubles you, Aslan?" Peter asked, as they grew out of earshot of Edmund and Lucy.
"Come," Aslan gestured towards the castle, it's stoned walls tuscan in the golden hours of the evening. "Let us walk. I must tell you both something."
His flaxen eyes were filled with sadness.
And it was almost as if the colours of the wind had shifted, sending a chilling shiver down her spine. The breeze was no longer warm and soft and bright, but greying and cool. Overcast clouds started to creep across the sky, and the horizon darkened, like Caspian's eyes as he gazed at them in curiosity.
Susan's heart sank.