A/N: Alrighty, time for more deleted scenes. Because of plot and character arc adjustments, I ended up rewriting (and re-rewriting) Chapters 28-32 several times before I was happy with them. These three deleted scenes are from what is currently Chapter 31, which used to be Chapter 28/9 in the first draft. You'll probably pick up on the characterization differences very quickly - in earlier drafts, the tone was more light-hearted but I didn't think that did justice to how Caspian and Addie would both be feeling after Chapter 24. Addie splitting off in the escape was a big moment for them both and the subsequent chapters needed to reflect the emotional gravitas. Which is to say, the final drafts are a LOT angstier, but I think that ultimately served the story better. Though if you disagree, feel free to yell at me in the comments or on the bird app πŸ˜…


Scene 1 - Chapter 31, Draft 1: This is a deleted scene from the first draft of the chapter that became Chapter 31; if you've seen the Prince Caspian deleted scenes, you'll recognize this one. In the first draft of Monachopsis, I pretty much followed the Prince Caspian movie plot to the letter, so the Pevensies were at the How pretty early on. I think my struggle in writing the Pevensies and making them useful characters rather than just props is Very Apparent in this scene, but there's a bit of Caslina cuteness so I figured I'd share this for anyone who's sick of my angsty bs.

Addie

Queen Susan greets her more warmly than expected.

"Hello, Addie. We were just getting started." Queen Susan points to an empty spot just beside her. The genuine smile helps.

Addie tries for one of her own, but it pinches in the corners of her mouth and all she can manage is planting her feet as far as the others around her and slinging the quiver over her head since it isn't content to stay put on her shoulder without flopping into her bow.

Queen Susan doesn't spend nearly so long on perfecting stances or grips, thank the gods. Surely all those details are useful, but the persistent itch under Addie's fingers won't be resolved by holding a weapon ten different ways until something feels right. She needs to be doing something.

"Bend your elbow a bit," says Queen Susan. "Else the string will hit you."

Addie tries, but it strains oddly against her shoulder. Surely no one's arms are meant to bend like this. Queen Susan steps over and pushes the bottom of her elbow out just a bit, so the inside of her arm is flat facing the bow instead of twisted awkwardly at her elbow. Still odd, but not painful.

"Thanks, your Majesty." Addie fumbles a bit with the formality; it's been a while since she's directly addressed a royal according to their station. Queen Susan has the good grace not to notice, or the grace to seem like she doesn't.

"Good. Try it now."

Addie looses the arrow with a twang in time with the other trainees in line, the whisper of the string ruffling her sleeve as it goes.

The poor badger holding the Telmarine dummy, however, isn't having such a good time of it. With a holler, he nearly dumps the dummy clean over the log.

"Not a scratch on him," wheezes the badger, "but nearly several on my head!"

"Sorry," Addie calls. Poor badger. Holding a stuffed sack of Telmarine armour isn't how she'd like to spend her afternoon either, especially not with some very real arrows flying overhead.

Another arrow whizzes past right as Queen Susan starts saying something.

"By Tash!" Addie jumps aside, jostling the faun next to her and teetering on her tiptoes. It wouldn't do, it simply will not do to start bowling over everyone thanks to some overconfident idiot who thought it would be a good idea to fire something from well behind the line -

Addie turns, and there he is, in full princely getup with his lips twisted like they do when she says something inappropriate and he's caught up in his manners. Damn him. Addie turns to the faun she so rudely bumped, apologizing as though he's not looking at her like she just called on the devil himself.

Right. They say 'by the Lion' or 'by the Mane,' because somehow that's more acceptable than swearing by the name of the god the Calormens worship. Were it up to Addie, swearing by a god they see as evil sounds like a much better idea than the one they revere.

Caspian's hand lands gently on her waist, just on the edge of her pants. Addie takes her time acknowledging him; it's still strange to be touched by him in front of others, to have their… whatever they are out in the open.

"Your Highness," Addie mutters, pulling another arrow from her quiver and notching it. She can't help but meet Caspian's dark eyes, because the sun brings out the lighter browns and she so rarely sees him in sunlight.

He's smiling, but there's no mistaking the pause lingering beneath the playfulness.

Meanwhile Queen Susan is busy praising his shot, and surely the badger is pleased to find an arrow in the target's shoulder instead of whizzing over his furry head.

"I thought you could use some help," Caspian says, his hand falling away from her waist as he looks to Queen Susan.

Queen Susan, however, is not quite the mild-mannered lady Addie took her for. "Things are well in hand," she says, looking him up and down with little qualms of showing her indignation. "Thank you."

Queen indeed. Addie has the good sense not to smile, but it pokes at the edges of her mouth anyway.

Caspian's chin drops enough he seems contrite through the bravado. "I didn't mean to suggest otherwise," he says.

If she pulls back on the string just so, she could poke some sense into him with an elbow to the chestplate.

"I only meant to offer another set of hands," Caspian says. A glance over her shoulder shows her a prince back to being the perfect picture of royal manners, even with that crossbow in hand.

"It couldn't hurt," says Queen Susan. She moves off down the line to help a faun with his elbow jutted out much too far to the side, leaving Addie's half of the line to Caspian.

He's beside her before Addie can get a full breath in, hovering at her shoulder like a guardian. Caspian doesn't touch her again, though she could touch him if she liked.

"Elbow," he murmurs. His fingers hover over the same arm Queen Susan corrected, close enough the heat of his skin whispers over her sleeve. Addie straightens the angle and keeps her elbow bowed out of the string's way.

"Other one too," says Caspian. "Drop your shoulders."

She's still annoyed with him. She's still right, that he would've been too worried if she'd told him what she intended in the escape. But he's close and it's one of the first times they've actually had any time together in the daylight and she can be forgiven for being greedy.

"Show me then." Addie tries to send the words out over a grumble, but they come out just this edge of breathless. It isn't fair how he affects her even with all these people around. It isn't fair how just glancing up at him reminds her how his hands feel on her skin when she wants to shake him until he understands. She sighs the moment his palms rest on her shoulders and melt away the tension, settling them down until the bow nearly feels natural in her hands.

"Breathe."

Addie inhales on instinct. Caspian's hands start to slide off her shoulders, and the arrow flies.

It clips the dummy's helmet before pinging off and disappearing into the grass.

Caspian's smile is prouder than it has any right to be, all soft eyes and gently curved lips. "Better," he says.

"Thanks."

She could still shake him until his teeth rattle. But at least now, she could kiss him just as easily. After all, distracting each other might still be the one thing they do best.


Scene 2 - Chapter 31, Draft 2: Draft 2 is when I shifted to a more book-heavy war plot and pushed Pevensies' arrival out several chapters. This scene got cut when draft 3 of Chapter 31 kept growing - to the tune of almost 7k. This scene showed Addie suffering some consequences for training with Marcos, but from a medical standpoint that would've complicated her recovery further and I needed her mostly on the mend for plot reasons in the coming chapters. I didn't absolutely have to cut this scene, but I couldn't justify its existence as much as others, so it got chopped.

Addie

"Stay still, please."

Easy for Rainroot to say; she's not getting re-stitched. Addie bites her tongue until she tastes blood. Sparring with Marcos, even trying to be careful, might not've been her best idea.

Rainroot's needle makes another pass. Addie's eyes water.

"Have you been resting?"

Do all healers ask questions they already know the answer to?

Addie's grin twists into a grimace. "Why, is it healing that well?"

Rainroot finishes the last stitch with a clinical tug, her silence heavy between the intermittent hoofsteps and clanking armour of passing Narnians.

"Sorry," Addie mumbles in spite of herself. "It's just maddening, only using one arm."

Rainroot lifts her shirt back over her shoulders, tugging the collar with perfunctory ease. "It will be maddening for much longer if I must redo your stitches every few days. And longer than that if you reinjure yourself further."

"Technically," Addie says, holding her arm still as Rainroot refastens her sling, "it was almost a week."

Stoic as she is - as the centaurs typically are - Rainroot sighs with the annoyed forbearance Bruna sometimes took on.

"Rest," says Rainroot. "You will heal much faster."

Addie nearly laughs. Resting all the time isn't an option.

Resting leads to thinking. Thinking leads to feeling, to regret, to guilt, to counting all her mistakes, all the people she's hurt.

Thinking means wondering if the maids are all dead, if Miraz is that callous, or if their ignorance and the castle residents' need to eat will keep them safe. Wondering if she can ever banish that haunted look from Caspian's eyes, if he'll ever stop looking at her like he's waiting for her to collapse.

And now he's off meeting some lord who couldn't be bothered to be helpful when Caspian was escaping, or in the weeks since.

Addie chews the inside of her cheek raw, prods the tender flesh with her tongue. It's better not to think too much.

"I'll be more careful," she says at last. It's the closest thing to a promise she can make.

Careful won't keep her alive in a battle. Careful won't help her fight with a bad arm.

Careful doesn't mean she can't train at all.


Scene 3 - Chapter 31, Draft 2: Not gonna lie, this was a fun scene to write. Another casualty of the draft 3 revisions, unfortunately this scene felt too light-hearted with the rest of Chapter 31. It also muddied Marcos' intentions and motivations, and I wanted him more focused on claiming any time he could weasel out of Addie than concerned about her health (not that he isn't, in his own way, but to my mind Marcos is a character who puts his self-interest above anyone else). This scene shows a more playful/snarky side to Marcos and Addie's dynamic, so I was still sad to see it go. Alas, all my decisions ultimately come down to what I think is best for the story.

Addie

"No."

Addie's scowl deepens. They struck a bargain and he's trying to weasel out?

"I kept my end of the deal," Addie snaps. "You're in normal quarters, and you can leave the How almost whenever you like."

Marcos snorts. His finger darts out too fast to dodge, too precise to evade – and jabs right into her shoulder.

Addie swears and recoils.

"Good to know those fresh stitches are settling in. Don't look so surprised; healer's shop is on the way to the dining cave. Or whatever you call that depressing hovel."

Shoulder throbbing, Addie spits another curse. Leave it to Marcos to make it worse than it already was.

"A battle's coming whether I'm freshly stitched or not," she manages through gritted teeth. "Or does your word mean nothing to you now?"

It's debatable whether Marcos' word ever meant anything – to him or to anyone else – but maybe he has enough chivalry to bristle at the accusation.

Maybe.

Marcos chuckles. "You cut a deal," he answers. "Your word or mine had nothing to do with it."

"I thought you wanted me alive?"

There, that's better. Marcos scoffs, but his jaw tightens as he looks away. "Busting your shoulder up isn't keeping you alive."

"Kind of is." Addie glances to her shoulder, adjusts her right arm in the sling. "This thing won't probably won't be off before Miraz finds this place. I'll need to hold my own."

Marcos jabs his sword into the earth and drums rough fingertips over the hilt. "You'll hold your own better if you're healed up."

She almost throws her hands up. "We don't have that kind of time. Even if we did, I'm not taking that chance."

Marcos' knuckles whiten. "Fortunately for us all, it's not up to you."

Hell of an attitude when she's the only reason he isn't rotting from boredom in that makeshift cell.

Addie's just opening her mouth to tell him so when the words sour on her tongue.

That's something Marcos would say.

"Fine," Addie says instead. "I'll spar with Falmus."

Falmus is much pleasanter company and he'll probably be a kinder teacher - might actually correct her without sneering like she's stupid.

Addie turns on her heel, the sun warm on her back as she lifts her good arm, waves to Falmus –

An arm seizes her waist, and the world tilts as a shoulder digs into her stomach. Addie's meager breakfast threatens to reappear.

"You're going inside," Marcos grunts, "and you're staying off that shoulder. Didn't save you so you could toss it all away now."

Tash's shits, he'll never shut up about that. It's not as if she asked him to help her escape.

A hiccup distorts the threats bubbling in her throat, strangles the indignance before she can give it voice.

"Fortunately," Addie finally wheezes as the How's doorway stretches a cool shadow over her back, "it's not up to you."

"Sure seems like it," Marcos says, his arm slung dangerously low over her hips as he rebalances her. "If that prince isn't putting his foot down, I will."

Every step jostles the air from her lungs, and it doesn't help that she's half upside down, her shoulder burning as too much blood rushes to the wound.

"Not helping," Addie coughs. An ill-timed kick meets only air and drives Marcos' shoulder deeper into her abdomen.

Marcos ignores her.

The tunnels stretch on, heavy with the smell of smoke and damp earth.

"Still gonna train," Addie says. "Better than sitting around doing nothing."

Marcos says nothing until, without preamble, he slides her back down in full view of Rainroot.

Addie's feet betray her, wobbling as they take the brunt of her weight. It's only because Marcos hauls her upright that she doesn't fall outright.

"I'm guessing sparring isn't in her healing regimen anymore?" Marcos says to Rainroot.

The centaur lashes her tail. "It is not."

"There you have it." Marcos all but tosses her away.

Cool stone scrapes into her palm as Addie catches herself against the wall. "You're insufferable."

"And you're too stubborn, but I don't complain about that, do I?"

Addie scowls and pretends her head isn't still swimming. "Don't you?"

Marcos nods to Rainroot as if she said nothing. "She's all yours. My condolences."

Insufferable.

Addie glares daggers at Marcos' rapidly retreating back as Rainroot calls her over with the promise of a long morning of herb grinding under her watchful eye.

It's better than nothing, Addie tells herself as she commits the recipe for an anti-inflammation poultice to memory. Healing is useful in battle too.

But it still won't save her if Miraz's soldiers get inside the How.