The Place Where We Belong

by clearwaterangel

After Caspian's coronation, the Pevensies are haunted by the idea of having to return to England, but is there a possibility that things will be different this time? After all, Narnia is where they belong. Suspian, PeterxOC, EdmundxOC, LucyxOC. Mainly movie-verse but may incorporate elements from the books. Rated T just to be safe. R&R!

2. Chapter 2: Remembering the Past

Hello! Brand new chapter! I want to apologise for how long it took me to write/post it! It's been a crazy few weeks for me and I have been in a bit of a drought of creative juices. I love to read your comments, so don't forget to review!

Once again, I own nothing other than plot and OCs :)

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Remembering the Past

He had been lying on his bed for a while, half asleep, when a flash of light cut the darkness of the room for a second, startling him. Instinctively, jumped out of bed, just in time to catch another flash, this time longer and accompanied by a low roar. Had it happened at any other time, he would have found this very unusual and intriguing, but given the current state of affairs, there was no time to waste on musings; the answer was obvious on any newspaper and radio programme: it was war. He slipped on his shoes, forgetting about the laces, shouting for his brother to do the same and get dressed fast, fearing what could happen in those few moments they took to leave the house. They had to hurry or it could be too late. His mother soon started shouting in the corridor, hurrying all of them to get out of the house as fast as possible. He could hear her running up and down, collecting things, directing Susan to help her, her voice desperate and worried. He pushed Edmund out of the room, telling him to run to the shelter. Susan met them halfway down the stairs, going up to retrieve some other objects, and he shared a concerned glance at her, scared that they wouldn't make it. Soon enough, they were all running towards the small underground shelter in the backyard, their mother calling desperately after them, rushing them inside. The sound of bombs falling nearby was heard and the ground trembled, as if fearing the wounds this attack would inflict. An explosion nearby got his attention for a split second, before his mother pulled his arm, yelling for him to get in, her eyes showing the deep anguish in her heart. As he closed the small door, there was a loud bang and screams could be heard, certainly from people who were escaping too. Air-raid sirens were bellowing their rhythmical wails. He thought of his neighbours, the loose friends he had made through the years, and who he would probably not see again. He could hear Edmund fumbling with an oil lamp, the orange glow of the lamp dissipating the darkness of the shelter an instant later, allowing them to see each other at last. His heart was sliced when he saw Susan and Lucy with their arms around each other, fright evident their pale expressions. Susan's clear orbs were looking up at him, and he nodded, doing his best to appear strong, even if he was frightened to the bone. Lucy was hiding her face in her sister's chest, sobbing lightly, her small shoulders shaking. Mother was in a frightful state. She was shaking, her hand grasping his arm tightly, her honey-coloured eyes scanning her children from head to toe, making sure no one was hurt. He knew that every time there was an air raid, she would think they wouldn't make it, and then her thoughts would drift to Father, hoping that he would still be alive. He knew, even if she didn't tell him, he could see it in her sad expression, and he himself had had the same thoughts, almost feeling the cold hand of death brushing its bony fingers down his spine, breathing coldly on his neck.

The scene around him changed suddenly and he was now standing in front of a greyish building, large and a few stories high, with hundreds of windows all along its length. Behind him, two large metal gates were firmly closed. Everything was so grim and he felt imprisoned, his eyes still fixed on the gates and the tall iron grid on both sides. Boys of various ages were walking around him, some playing around, others laughing, others talking with their friends on the stairs, some passing by him, too interested in their own conversations to pay attention to the boy looking around in confusion. They were all wearing uniforms and he looked at his clothes, recognising the dark blue sweater and grey trousers, his hand gasping the raw fabric they were made of. He looked up to the building again and saw some of his classmates coming through the door, waving at him, telling him to come closer. His classmates, his friends from- of course! He was in school! How could he not recognise it before! He shook off the feeling of discomfiture and waved a greeting to his friends, walking over to them. They then started gesturing towards his back in a desperate manner and he turned around out of curiosity, his eyes searching for whatever was causing them to act this way. Across the street stood another building, very similar to the one towering behind him. For a moment he was quite at loss to what his friends were pointing at, until he noticed a group of girls near the gates, one of which stood out by the long silver blond hair cascading down her back, gently caressed by the wind. A small rose clip was keeping it from her face, letting him see it, her blue eyes sparkling as she laughed about what her friends were saying. Alice, that was her name, and he had fancied her for quite a long time, always trying to catch a glimpse of her whenever it would be recess time. For a moment he stood there, gazing at her, waiting for the all too familiar sensation of having his thoughts swept away by her, but nothing happened, adding more to his earlier bewilderment. Some of her friends started giggling and pointing at him, and she looked up, her lips curling into a small smile when she saw him. She waved timidly at him, and he waved back, his hand moving in what felt like an automated reaction. An explosion of catcalls burst behind him and he rolled his eyes, throwing a pointed look at his friends. He was about to shout something at his silly friends when a slender shadow darkened the courtyard, covering him, his friends and everyone around him. His eyes darted to the sky, a gripping sensation constricting his chest. A plane bearing the Luftwaffe cross flew over their heads, and he grew pale. He tried to run, bumping his way around the chaos of panicking people. He desperately looked for a safe place to hide, his heart tight with worry over his sisters, his brother, his mother, but then there was a deafening sound and...

Peter woke up with a scream and sat up on his bed, frantically looking around. Sweat was running richly down his forehead and the back of his neck, the bed covers tangled around him. His breath was laboured, coming out in sound, short pants, and his stomach was tossing and turning, the waves of nausea almost unbearable for a moment. Bombs, school, his mother, war, his house, soldiers, Alice; images were running like unorganised scenes of a film in his head, and he couldn't suppress a strangled groan, the icy hand of fear closing around his heart and filling his chest with dread. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, noticing only then the streaks of tears on his cheeks. His eyes swept over the dimly lit room, memory of his whereabouts slowly making its way up. It was his room in the Telmarine castle. He was in bed, the bluish tint of the very first lights of day peering through the nearest window and casting some light over his surroundings. The fire in the hearth was almost extinguished, reduced to dying embers glistening with their red-orange glow, while a lonely candle burnt silently in one of the farthest corners of the room, probably forgotten by him in his eagerness to get some much needed rest. He took a deep breath, calm and relief slowly sinking in. He was safe, he was in Narnia.

For a moment he thought about the nightmare, how everything – his house, school, even the people – appeared pale and lacking colour, so grey and cold. Even Alice's silvery hair seemed to have lost some of its radiance. His thoughts remained on her for a moment. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he remembered having a crush on her – one hell of a crush at that – like almost every other boy in his year. He remembered sitting under the tree in their backyard in Finchley and thinking of her, of her smile, imagining how her skin would feel like, her lips. He shook his head, focusing back on what was bothering him in the first place. If he thought about her now, he didn't feel that tingle in his body, that excitement which accompanied her smiles to him, or the nervousness of what he would tell her, or the desperate hope not to look like a fool. He felt nothing, nothing at all. Was it because he was in Narnia? Or perhaps, after all he had lived here, he had subconsciously realised it had been a silly crush? Maybe. And really, why was he dreaming of her anyway? He snorted at this thought; he certainly had more important things to dream about.

There was a soft knock on the door and he gasped, so involved in his thoughts that the sound startled him utterly. The door opened slightly and Lucy's head popped inside, smiling as she saw her brother awake.

"Sorry Pete, I heard you screaming, I came to check if you were alright" she whispered, and he smiled, gesturing for her to come in. She closed the door behind her and tiptoed towards the bed, her nightgown swishing softly behind her. Noticing she was not wearing slippers, Peter grabbed her feet and rubbed them between his hands, something he had done countless times before when she was younger.

"You will get a cold, walking barefoot around this chilly castle, Lu" he said softly, pulling the covers around her. She smiled sheepishly, and snuggled closer to him.

"You had a nightmare, didn't you? You're all sweaty" she told him, her big eyes looking up at him, brushing a damp strand of his hair.

"It was nothing important, Lu, but thanks for caring" he told her, patting her hair in an affectionate manner.

"Mmm, you look a bit pale, do you feel ill?" she commented, touching his forehead to check for a fever.

"I'm fine, Lu, really, it was just a bad dream" he smiled, taking her hand and placing a small affectionate kiss on her knuckles.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucy offered, her dark blue eyes examining his expression.

"No, it really was a very silly dream" he told, brushing away her concern, although the little queen did not look quite convinced. "Do you want me to come with you to your room?" he offered.

"Oh, no need. I was thinking on asking Susan if I could sleep with her tonight, my room is a bit too chilly. Or maybe I should ask Caspian if he would let me sleep in his" the little queen pondered jokingly, jumping out the bed.

"Lucy!" Peter gasped. The idea of having Lucy not only waking but snuggling up to Caspian being far from proper to his standards.

"I am joking, silly" she told him, sticking her tongue out at him. "I would stay here, but you snore too much. Maybe I'll go wake Ed up, I know that deep down he likes being snuggled to, however fervently he denies it" she mused and Peter shook his head, sighing.

"Lucy, take that blanket over there and go to your bed" he whispered, pointing to a chair close to the fire. "And don't wake anyone up" he added, just as she opened the door to leave. She giggled and blew him a kiss, closing the door quietly behind her. He smiled at her antics and rearranged his pillows, patting one of them softly before laying back down. The sick feeling of war was still cramping his chest, yet less strongly so, Lucy's sweet concern managing to ease it slightly. He turned to his side and snuggled into the covers, hoping for his dreams to be better this time.

Peter woke up some hours later, and judging by the position of the sun in the sky, Peter could tell that it was the early morning. He groaned as he turned to lie on his back. The horrible shadow of his nightmare still hovered over him, causing his insides to twist at the cold feeling that washed upon him and brought a new wave of nausea along. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. As much as he tried, he couldn't drive the nasty feeling away, and with a sigh he accepted this was going to be quite a dreadful day. Of one thing he was certain, he did not want to return to such a lifeless and icy place, not after he had seen the vibrant colours of Narnia, and the peace of going to sleep without worrying for bombs falling on their heads. Despite numerous reassurances, nobody had a clear idea of how long the war would last, so the threat was still there, and soon enough he would get that dreadful letter, enlisting him to serve his country. War in England was cruel, not at all like Narnia, where he could solve conflicts with his word and sword; there, nothing could stop the bullets, the bombs, the mines. No, he did not want to participate of that, to be away from home, from his family, just like Father. He would not be able to cope with the fact that they would worry for him, living with the constant anguish of not knowing if he was still alive. No, he couldn't do that to his mother, to Susan. He desperately prayed for Aslan to let them stay in this wonderful land forever, telling him about the horrors of war on the other world and how he didn't want to experience that again. Tears started pouring down his eyes, and he brushed them away briskly, feeling angry at himself for letting the darkness in his chest grow bigger. He scrambled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Filling the adorned basin with water, he splashed cold water on his face several times, hoping to wash out the anguish and pain, but simple water did not have such power. He looked at his reflection on the small mirror and saw the fear in the blue eyes staring back at him, the fear of a boy at war. A cold, loud slap echoed on the marble bathroom walls, and Peter's cheek grew red, his hand leaving a fine imprint on it. No, he couldn't let fear overtake him like that, for his family's sake and his own. All this was just a stupid dream.

He spent most of his day in a sour mood, avoiding any kind of company, not wishing to give explanations. He choose the library as his place of temporary confinement, opting to have his meals there, raking the shelves for interesting books and making some notes, the scratching noise of his pen against the parchment working in a soothing way. He was impressed by the huge collection of medicine books he found in the library, some very old, covered with thick layers of dust. He snorted many times as he read some of the theories and facts, knowing them to be incorrect and even farfetched, yet these singularities made them all the more interesting. He was distracted from a very interesting paragraph by a servant who shyly moved some of the books scattered around the table to make a space for the large silver tray she had brought with her. Pushing his notes out of the way, he thanked her and spared a look at the contents of the tray. Juice, sandwiches, tea, pastries, a small pot of freshly made stew. He smiled and made a mental note to thank Susan for sending such a generous meal. No matter how busy she was or how antisocial he felt, Susan always took care of him, insisting that he ate well. With a warmer feeling in his heart he returned to his book, munching on a sandwich as he did so.

The library was flooded with the golden light of the afternoon sun when Edmund popped in to check on his brother, hoping to find him in a better mood.

"Is there anything in here to cure mood swings, irritability and a tendency towards pompousness?" he joked, sitting in front of Peter and leafing uninterestedly through one of the books. Peter sent him a glare.

"I'm fine" Peter stated, scribbling a few notes on a piece of parchment.

"If you feel like being antisocial and avoiding your family, that is fine by me, but Susan and Lucy are worried about you, and even Caspian wondered if there was anything the matter" Edmund said, his gaze fixed on his brother's face. Peter did not look up from his book, but Ed knew he wasn't reading. "Lu said something about a nightmare" he pressed, and Peter rolled his eyes.

"It was nothing important, just a stupid dream about a stupid place, nothing more" Peter replied, visibly irritated, slamming his book closed and getting up, walking away from Ed towards the shelves. Edmund followed him with his gaze, yet remained quiet. He had a pretty good idea of what had Peter in such foul mood.

"Well then, I will leave you to sulk on your own. Just try to make it to dinner, if not for you then for the girls" Ed said with a sigh. A muffled non-committal noise came from behind a shelf and Ed shrugged, walking away. The great carved wooden door of the library opened just as the Just King was walking towards it, revealing the tall figure of Caspian, who appeared to be looking for Peter.

"Is Peter alright? Is it anything serious?" Caspian asked. Edmund raised an eyebrow and shook his hand in a vague gesture. Feeling a bit more relieved, Caspian caught Edmund's hint for them to go talk outside, the young king gesturing at the shelves with his head, suggesting Peter was close enough to listen.

"He had a nightmare. About the- other world" Ed said once he made sure they were out of Peter's earshot. "He gets like this sometimes, particularly when it's a nasty nightmare, the best is to leave him to sort out his feelings alone". Edmund explained, his tone tinged with a tint of grimness that did not escape Caspian's notice.

"What is there in your country so awful to haunt him to the point of isolating himself all day?" Caspian asked curiously, imagining all sorts of monstrous creatures.

"War, for one. But I think it is also a matter of pride. You see, we are not royalty back there, Caspian. We are just children, and adults don't respect children, don't listen to what they have to say. Pete hates to be treated like a child, to be ignored and to be pushed around. In- England we are grownups trapped in children's bodies and no one cares to think of us as anything different, that's what irks Peter the most, I suppose" Edmund told, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper. Caspian could see a sad glow on the Just King's eyes, the usual mischievous and witty spark absent from his gaze. Even if they had not known each other for long, Caspian knew that although his best friend was speaking about Peter, his own feelings were making its way into the conversation. For the first time in their short friendship, Caspian saw Edmund looking forlorn. Deciding to leave his questions about life in their world for a more suitable moment, Caspian changed the subject, remembering a question he had wanted to ask Edmund for some time.

"Could you mind clearing something up?" he asked in a casual voice, receiving a nod in reply. "Is 'England' the real name of your kingdom? I have heard Susan talking of a 'United Kingdom' and Lucy mentioned something about 'Britain', while you have spoken of something called 'Finchley' and 'London'. Are all these villages?" Caspian asked, looking puzzled as he tried to remember all those names. Edmund snorted, finding Caspian's confusion quite amusing.

"I understand your confusion, but it's all the same place, more or less" Edmund explained, laughing at Caspian's baffled expression. "Alright, I think I can explain it better. You see, we come from a village called Finchley, which is not far from a city called London, which in turn is the capital of a country named England. Now, England is located on an island, called Britain, and together with its neighbours Scotland, Wales and Ireland – well, some of it – it forms the United Kingdom, which is ruled by one king" Edmund explained, trying and failing to keep his explanation simple.

"Whales?!" Caspian exclaimed, even more bewildered than before. "Oh I see, you are most definitely pulling my leg" he then added, throwing him a sceptical look. Edmund laughed whole-heartedly and shook his head.

"I am most definitely not, not this time" he assured his friend before he proceeded to clarify that, however similar sounding, the country had nothing to do with the animal.

"Alright, I see. But the rest is certainly balderdash" Caspian told, looking at him in disbelief as he crossed his arms. "I mean, four kingdoms ruled by the same king, you have to be joking" he added, shaking his head at such nonsense. Edmund exhaled tiredly.

"Come on, let's go grab a bite in the kitchen, I feel this will take long to explain" Edmund said, chuckling in between words.

Susan's eyes scanned the same paragraph twice, thrice, but as much as she recognised the words, she could not settle her focus on the text, her train of thought occupied by another matter completely. Caspian had mentioned a scandal during their meeting with the Council lords and the hint of a woman – or at least she thought it was a woman – had slipped his tongue, although he had quickly corrected it. Yet, the look on his eyes as he spoke was the darkest she had ever seen him, darker than the one he gave Miraz upon discovering he had murdered his father. She had never seen him so full of rage and disgust. Whoever was capable of stirring such a reaction from Caspian had to be extremely important to him. She blew an aggravated sigh and slammed her book closed, deeming it useless to continue trying to read. Truth was, she had been scared of Caspian for a moment, frightened at the raw anger she saw in his eyes, uncertain of what he would do next. Who was this woman and what had happened to her? One thing was certain, though, she was important to Caspian and he loved her. Her heart stung at the thought, as if showered by something acid and vile, allowing her thoughts to turn darker. She imagined a fiancée, a wife, a lover. Was she a long lost love? The one girl who had captured his heart before she was roughly taken away from him? And why was she gone? Could it be...? No, of course not, Caspian was far too honourable, yet, if he really loved her, if they had intended to marry... Could it be that this girl was carrying Caspian's child? She was brought back to reality by the light thud of her book landing on the wooden floor. She had let her imagination go too far. She shook her head, blaming it on all the romance novels she had read. This was definitely not the plot of a romantic tragedy! Yet, as much as she tried to rationalise it, the sour feeling in her heart did not go away, confusing her with its mix of sadness and anger. Why was she feeling all this? For a moment she felt guilty for imagining Caspian in such a discourteous light, for he had been nothing but a gentleman to her. The idea of Caspian courting some girl made her stomach twist and her heart ache. But why? It confused her, surprised her, shocked her. Truth was, he knew little about Caspian, about his past. There might have been a bit of an attraction between them when they first met in the forest, but it was soon replaced with friendship and comradery as they fought side by side. So why did the thought of him having someone to love bother her to such an irrational extent? Why did it bother her at all? This whole affair was preposterous and blowing out of proportion. She was letting a simple and irrelevant mention question the whole nature of her relationship with Caspian. Was he really just an acquaintance? She pondered on the subject in spite of its absurdity. She loved their carefree talks, so light and amusing that she felt free, free from her title to be just Susan, free to forget diplomacy and talk about anything, the topics of their conversations changing so swiftly that she would not be able to trace them back to the first. He was so passionate and curious about Old Narnia, always coming to her with a question which they would end up discussing for hours. She could see his soul, his heart, so clear in his eyes, in his gestures, and she felt that, somehow, he could see hers too. And it hit her. All those feelings she was experiencing were not isolated; it was not just anger and sadness, no, together they formed jealousy. She let out an exasperated groan, not understanding her heart at all. Perhaps it was because she did not want to lose a friend, to be replaced as his conversation companion. She snorted at the stupidity of her own argument. Perhaps the attraction is still there, growing, changing. She felt herself blush.

"I am delirious, that has to be it" she whispered, hiding her face on a cushion to muffle her scream of annoyance. Deciding she needed to vent this- thing, she got up, throwing the cushion back on the armchair she had been occupying until then. "That's it, I'm going for a walk" she stated to herself, picking the book from the floor and placing it on the tea table a tad too vigorously.

"May I accompany Your Grace? That is, if my company is welcome" a heavily accented voice said behind her, startling her.

"How-how long have you been there?" she asked, turning to look at him, embarrassment pulsating from every fibre of her being.

"I just came in" Caspian lied, fully aware that she could tell he was not telling the truth, but wishing to spare her from having to explain what she clearly regarded as an embarrassing moment.

"I am sorry you had to witness such ridiculous beha-"

"In fact, I wished to invite you to admire the sights from the high tower, it has a privileged view of the gardens that I thought you might enjoy" Caspian interrupted her, diverting the topic, noticing her discomfort. Susan was genuinely surprised.

"Oh, sure, I would love to" Susan replied with an awkward smile. He smiled back and gestured for her to walk before him, holding the door open for her. Once in the corridor, he offered her his arm, overdoing his chivalry on purpose, succeeding in making her laugh. They walked in silence for a few minutes, their path very familiar to Susan.

"Caspian"

"Yes?" the Telmarine King replied, confirming her suspicions that he had not noticed anything wrong yet.

"I thought we were going to the high tower"

Caspian stopped dead on his tracks and whispered a curse before spinning them around. Susan giggled loudly, her giggle growing into a bubbling laugh at Caspian's indignant glower, before he too burst out laughing.

Edmund whispered a curse and turned right, trying to retrace his steps. The sun was beginning to set and he had spent the last ten minutes trying to find his way back to the south wing of the castle.

"Bloody castle, so many corridors" Edmund whispered, his boots echoing in the empty hallway. What had started as the search for his kingly best friend had ended up in him getting lost. Twice. One missed turn and he had found himself in a totally unknown part of the castle instead of the corridor leading to Caspian's study. Positively annoyed, the Just King turned left at the end of the corridor, letting out a sound of contentment as a long familiar hallway stretched in front of him. Finally, he reached the small private study, a cosy room Caspian had conditioned as an office but which had quickly grown into a common room for all of them, its comfy warmth adding to its homely appeal. More often than not, this is where the Telmarine King would be found when avoiding obnoxious nobles. Edmund opened the door, ready to address his best friend, but he found the place empty instead.

"Bummer, I could have sworn he was here" Edmund said to no one in particular, absentmindedly shuffling some papers on the desk.

"I would appreciate you did not mess my desk" an unmistakeably Telmarine voice said at the door. Edmund swore under his breath. Caspian had the horrible habit of appearing behind people's backs when least expected.

"Damn it Caspian!" the Just King grunted, turning to glare at his friend, who was leaning on the doorframe, looking amused.

"It works every time" Caspian replied, grinning smugly.

"Anyway," Edmund said pointedly. "How about you get your ass handed to you in a game of chess?" he asked with a cheeky smirk. Caspian lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh, that is rich coming from the man whose king was kissing my knight's butt last time we played" Caspian said, returning Ed's smirk as he walked towards his chess set, Edmund taking a seat in front of him. As Lucy and Susan had come to know, the games of chess between Edmund and Caspian were never silent, and a few minutes into the game found the two kings swapping witty yet harmless insults every now and then.

"How does your knight like being thrown off his horse, huh?!" Caspian yelled, waving Edmund's black knight in front of him.

"HA! Check!" Edmund yelled back, successfully deflating Caspian's smirk. Ed looked at his friend while he pondered on his next move.

"So, this is not just a game of chess, is it?" Caspian asked nonchalantly, moving his tower a few paces and knocking one of Ed's pawns out of the way. Edmund raised his eyebrows. Caspian was among the few people who could see through him, perhaps due to how alike their ways were, after all, it takes one to know one. Sighing in defeat, Edmund made his move, collecting Caspian's ivory tower and putting it aside.

"Who is the girl?" he asked casually, earning a puzzled look from Caspian. "You know, the one from the scandal?" Edmund explained. Caspian knew his friend was being cautious, choosing his words carefully so as not to trespass any boundaries and avoid any strife between them.

"Curious, Peter asked me the same thing" Caspian replied, moving his knight to its assigned location.

"Don't change the topic. I have exhausted all the possibilities of who this girl may be" Edmund confessed, leaving Caspian to wonder how long his friend had been pondering on the matter.

"Take a guess" Caspian told him, leaning back on his chair and smirking at the Just King.

"Servant? Nanny? Childhood friend? Imaginary friend?" Edmund tried, and Caspian shook his head, chuckling. "Lady friend?" he hesitated, sighing at Caspian's amused but mute response. "Fiancée? Wife? Lover? One-night-fling?" Edmund ranted, grimacing at the last option.

"A what?" Caspian asked, not having heard the term before.

"You know, a girl you have-um- spent the night with, in private, just once" Edmund explained uncomfortably.

"Oh, I see. Nope, none of the above" Caspian answered, and Edmund stared at him, puzzled.

"Then what? Oh wait, don't tell me she is your daughter?" Edmund asked, his eyes opened wide.

"Do I look like a father to you?" Caspian asked him, raising one of his eyebrows.

"No, but that does not mean you could. Plus, I have been reading a bit about Telmarine history and I have noticed Telmarine kings married rather young, too young if you ask me" Edmund argued.

"Rest assured, my friend, I'm still single and heirless, and that won't change anytime soon" Caspian affirmed soberly.

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?" Edmund deduced, knowing the look in his friend's eyes.

"Nope" Caspian said with a smirk. "But I can tell you that you'll find out soon enough, or at least I hope so" he added with a faint enigmatic tone.

"Fair enough, I know when I've lost a battle. Check mate. Another game?" Edmund told, knocking Caspian's king down before he rearranged the pieces on the board. The flow of understanding, or the 'mind reading' as his siblings called it, made him certain that Caspian was not going to let the tiniest bit of information slip and that it was useless to keep insisting; he himself would do exactly the same. He then froze on his seat.

"Caspian, you don't think the counsellors are considering finding me a wife, do you?" he asked, and Caspian could not help breaking into peals of laughter at his dismayed expression.

Peter was bored. He had read quite a lot and had even taken some books to his chamber, marking some interesting pages for later, but after spending the whole day in the library, his body was aching for more active activity. Out of nothing better to do, he decided to take a walk around the castle, choosing to venture through the areas of the castle he had not yet been to and making a mental map of the place. He wandered around, greeting servants as he passed by, going up stairs and turning around corners. The more he walked the fewer servants he met until there were none, a clear sign that he had reached an abandoned part of the castle, the path ahead darkened by the absence of lit torches. Grabbing the nearest burning torch, he plunged into the dusty pathway, his steps echoing emptily. He passed several doors, some carrying heavy locks, others left open, wispy spider-webs dangling from the handles here and there. Feeling adventurous, he decided to open one of the doors, a small tingle of excitement surging in his chest, ready to face the unknown. The door creaked as he pulled it open and the rusty hinges gave in halfway through, causing the door to fall with a heavy thud, a soldier curse slipping through Peter's lips and echoing on the empty corridor. With some effort, he pushed the door to rest on the doorframe, lest it fell completely and made an even bigger mess. The door had thrown a big cloud of dust, forcing him to wave his hand around to keep it away from his face. Coughing and debating whether or not to tell Caspian about the broken door, he stepped inside, holding the torch over his head. Although the room was not crammed, it was filled with all sorts of objects which appeared to have been put there with care; boxes piled neatly, all the furniture covered with blankets. Old armours, tarnished weapons looking at least several centuries old, half a dozen chests – which Peter decided he would check later – among other things. A huge wardrobe had caught his attention, its intricately carved surface powdered with a thick layer of dust which did not diminish its stateliness. He smiled fondly at the remarkable yet vague similarity it had with the wardrobe in Professor Kirke's house, the wardrobe which had started everything. He brushed his hand against the carvings, taking in the detail under the heavy coat of greyish dust. He admired the fine wooden piece of furniture for a moment, moving around it and taking closer looks, his sneezes echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"I must ask Caspian if I could move it to my room" Peter mused to himself, inspecting a tiny carving of an eagle on one of the corners. After another minute inspecting the small metallic details he had found after cleaning a good layer of dust, Peter decided to take a look inside. As he opened the door, a couple of boxes fell, spilling their contents on the floor. Peter whispered a curse and looked down at the floor, hoping not to have broken anything. He was surprised to find a few toys, a handful of pebbles, some coloured pencils and a stack of papers scattered on the floor. Placing his torch on a nearby holder, the king began gathering the box's contents.

"This must have been Caspian's, I suppose" Peter whispered, grabbing and examining a golden jewelled orb, wondering what it was. He put it aside, deciding to ask Caspian later, and picked the objects that had rolled on the floor, smiling as he picked up some marbles, fine pieces of polished glass, containing what looked like emeralds and other gems in the centre. He put some in his pocket so he could show them to Lucy before returning them to Caspian, growing more and more curious about the Telmarine's childhood.

As he put the boxes back on the wardrobe, another object caught his attention, a small box – handcrafted, without a doubt – small pieces of rounded coloured glass glinting on its sides and lid. The imperfect lines of the carvings witnessed this as the work of an amateur rather than a professional, looking more like a mother's day gift than a regal present. Opening the lid, he found yellowed papers, his curiosity piqued more than ever. Reaching for the folded parchment on top, he opened it unceremoniously. Without even caring for how messy his clothes were going to get, he sat on the floor, the box sitting in front of him, open while he looked through the stack of messy papers. He found mostly drawings, the pages signed by Caspian in crooked handwriting, and picturing him, the little prince, in various colourful scenes. He passed the pages, scanning the drawings and laughing at some of the things the boy Caspian had drawn, until one particular drawing caught his attention. Caspian was standing in the middle of a big drawing, a forest in the background. He was holding hands with two boys and two girls, one of them with brilliant cerulean eyes – which Caspian had drawn with a sky blue colour – and long brown hair. All of them had golden – yellow, for the prince certainly lacked a golden crayon – crowns and pink round smiles. He leaned into the paper and inspected the drawings carefully, interested on the boy at Caspian's right. His hair was as yellow as his crown, two blue dots marking his eyes. He was wearing a bright blue cape and bearing a long sword and a shield. Peter did a double take. By the Mane, it was him! Caspian had drawn him! And the sword was Rhindon, attached to his belt where most of the books pictured it! He turned the paper around to find a scribbled explanation of the scene. Me and the Kings and Queens of Old, having lots of fun. Peter could only imagine what kind of fun Caspian imagined they would be having. He turned the paper again, and noticed a small note under each of them, telling who they were. For a moment, he felt an immense wave of affection towards the little boy who had drawn this, a little boy whose imagination had allowed him to dream up all sorts of adventures, the same little boy who could not know that years later he would meet the very four kings and queens from his wildest fantasies.

He folded the paper and put it delicately next to the others. As he turned the pages, he began noticing that the drawings gave way to letters, childish at first but gradually becoming more serious, evolving as Caspian grew older. Most of the letters were rather short, some casual and full of small jokes, while others served as replies to invitations to parties. Peter snorted at the plans of escape that were devised on paper and which had, by all evidence, succeeded. A bright red seal on a thick envelope caught his attention next, the crest on the seal striking a cord of familiarity. He racked his brain, searching in his memories where exactly he had seen the symbol before. "Maharayab!" he whispered triumphantly, and took the envelope in his hands, opening it slowly. Inside, several neat pieces of parchment were folded, revealing a slant, elegant writing as he unfolded them.

Dear Prince Caspian,

I write to Your Majesty in great haste, for you, above everyone, have the right to know about the latest news. After managing to infiltrate some people into the deep Narnian forest, the girl was found by Archen soldiers and brought safely across the border. She seems to be in good health other than some small bruises, which were to be expected after her hasty incursion into the forest in the dark. The escort and carriage I had sent to the Archen border were diligently waiting for her and she was safely taken to Anvard, where King Gaetan welcomed her with open arms; she could not be in better care. Her arrival coincided with my visit to Anvard, and this is why I can reassure you of her wellbeing, having seen her and spoken to her personally. It pleases me immensely to tell you that she has adapted all too well to her new home and has the entire royal family besotted with her, His Majesty King Gaetan in particular, who adores her as if she was his own daughter.

Worry not about her safety, dear Prince, for I can assure you that Miraz will think twice before trying anything against her. Archen and Maharabian soldiers have been stationed at the Narnian border with Archenland, and, with the humblest pretention, I can say that Telmarine troops would be quite foolish to believe they can even dent a Maharabian armour, let alone pierce it.

I hope my words have succeeded in easing some of your sorrow and worry, knowing that she is well and, above all, alive. I thank the Gods for giving us the wisdom and the means to prevent Miraz from carrying his abominable plan to completion.

I allow myself a moment of candidness to express my concern for your future, My Prince. Miraz has proved to be a vile and ruthless man, lacking any sensibility or feeling, capable of cold murder without any regret or sign of guilt. He has killed before, my boy, and I am afraid that soon, he will see no use for you anymore and decide against you. This concern I share with King Gaetan and the recently crowned King Trojka of Tarnova, as we are terribly worried for your life. Would you ever feel the need to flee, My Prince, do not hesitate on letting me know through whatever means, I will not measure efforts to come to your aid, even if it means mobilising troops into Narnia; I pray the Gods that the situation does not come to that.

Nevertheless, I allow myself the liberty of asking you to be vigilant. Do be very careful, my boy, watch your back and guard yourself. Do not trust anyone, especially nobles and high ranked soldiers, for it is them who are most likely to stab you in the back, as I am most certain someone as cunning and intelligent as Your Grace already knows.

As an emergency measure, I have sent one of my most trusted men to Narnia, who I put at your service. He is disguised very well, and is ready to act at the slightest sign of peril, in case, Gods forbid, that something befalls you. Do not hesitate to contact him. Professor Cornelius knows how to find him.

Never, dear Caspian, never lose your hope and courage. Aslan does not abandon those who truly believe in him.

Always your friend,

Radhanath

Peter stared at the letter for a long time, assimilating its contents, rereading some paragraphs over and over, his mind reeling on this new piece of information. The author of the letter must have been referring to the mysterious woman Caspian refused to talk about! So Miraz had tried to kill her, but could not, thanks to both the King of Archenland and the Raj, which meant she was still alive and probably still in Anvard. But then again, the Raj did not comment on her relation to Caspian, not a mention of her name or anything he could use to find more about her. Could it be that she was Caspian's child? How old could she have been when Miraz attempted on her life? Well, old enough to walk, by the looks of it, but Caspian was not old enough to have a grown daughter, he was barely a year older than him. Peter reached for the box in the hope of finding any other clue. Maybe she was Caspian's mother, perhaps threatening Miraz because she had been the legitimate queen? Peter quickly dismissed the idea, remembering that Caspian had told them she had died of an illness a few months before her husband had been murdered. Peter felt quite sorry for Caspian, recalling the sadness in the Telmarine's voice as he spoke about his mother. He could not even begin to imagine how awful it must have been for Caspian to face such a heart-breaking loss at such a young age. He could only imagine his pain for he had never lost someone close, but many times his heart had feared and ached at the thought of not seeing his father alive again. With a sigh, he collected the papers and put them back in the box, taking it along with him as he exited the room. On his way out, he cast a sheepish glance at old worm-eaten door that now lay heavily on its frame, tilted to the side. Shrugging, he walked away, his head full of the newly-discovered information.

As Peter ran down the stairs, he met Professor Cornelius, the old man carrying a big stack of books. Peter balanced the box on one hand and picked some of the books, greeting the wise dwarf with a smile.

"My King, you're too kind, but I do not wish to keep you from your business" Doctor Cornelius spoke, seeing as Peter was going on a different direction.

"Oh, it's not a bother at all. Actually, Professor, there is something you may be able to help me with" Peter told him, and accompanied him to his study. As soon as they entered the small room, Peter was rendered speechless, awestruck by the contents of the room. The walls were all crammed with shelves and books and chests of drawers. Rolls and rolls of parchment were dispersed everywhere, some half opened between books, others stacked in various corners. Peter recognised some of them as maps of the nightly skies, each dot carrying a small label with a name. A particularly old parchment propped on a chair caught his attention, its contents appearing strangely familiar to him. Putting the box he was carrying on top of a small cabinet, he took a closer look, his mind trying to spot the right place where he had seen that map before.

"By the Mane! Where did you find this, Professor?" Peter asked, his eyes wide, memories washing over him like a gust of warm wind.

"Ah, I see you recognise it, Your Highness" the Professor responded, his dark eyes glinting behind his spectacles.

"Of course I do, Ed and I drew this on our second year in Narnia, it used to be on my study, hanging on the eastern wall" Peter told him, and for a moment it seemed that he was not in the professor's cosy study, but back in Cair Paravel, on the very same room he had mentioned.

"It took me several years to find it, and I was glad to see it had been quite well preserved, though this piece here was ripped off, probably when the palace was attacked" the doctor pointed out, his finger pointing to the middle of the parchment, a chunk of the eastern sea replaced by a long shapeless rip.

"Ah, the Lone Islands, and Galma, I can draw them back to you, I remember them as clearly as the palm of my hand" Peter offered, already tracing the outlines of the Islands in his head.

"Your help and knowledge are most welcome, My King, yet I recall you had a matter you wished to discuss with me?" the old professor asked, reminding Peter why he had sought the Professor in the first place.

"Ah yes. Caspian-um- mentioned a woman during the last meeting with the lords of the Council. I am curious as to who this may be" Peter asked.

"Ah, I see. And have you asked him about it?" the Professor enquired again.

"Yes, but he did not wish to talk about it. I respect his decision, but I found this box and an interesting letter from the Raj, so I was hoping you could tell me more about it" Peter told him, his gaze dropping to the wooden box on his lap.

"My King, I may know who this person is, but I believe this is something King Caspian wishes to remain personal, at least for the time being, and he certainly must have his reasons for doing so; I would be betraying his trust if I told you. I can only suggest you be patient, Your Majesty, I am certain King Caspian will tell you when the time is right" Cornelius revealed. Although Peter understood and respected both Caspian's and the Professor's position, he felt disappointed at being so close to unveiling this mystery.

"I understand and it was never my intention to put you in a difficult position, Professor. I must leave now, but I thank you for your time" Peter told the old man with a smile, rising to his feet.

"It was my pleasure. My door is always open for Your Grace if you ever are in need of a good conversation and a warm cup of tea" the Professor said, and Peter beamed at his offer.

"I will most definitely keep you to that offer, Professor, and I must come back with Ed to fix that map of yours" Peter said with a short nod, closing the door behind him. He looked down at the ornamented box in his hands, deciding to hold onto it for a little longer.

A few days later, Lucy came up with the idea of them visiting Cair so she could take some things from her chest, consequently pestering Peter for them to go. Seeing how the little queen persistently tried to get her brother to agree, Caspian noted he would very much like to visit the place, his eagerness evident despite his efforts to appear casual. Susan too thought it was a good idea and commented she would like to bring back some of her Narnian dresses, while Edmund added he wished to get some of his old books as well, forcing Peter to give up under the expectant gazes of his family and Lucy's pout.

"Fine" the King said flatly, rolling his eyes, not quite hiding his smile when Lucy hugged him excitedly.

"Well, we will have to leave early if we want to be there before lunchtime" Susan noted, knowing that even if they flew there on griffins, the trip would still take a couple of hours. Indeed, two days later saw the five of them awake at the crack of dawn, Ed groaning as Susan dragged him out of bed. The sun was barely above the Eastern Sea when they got on the griffins, the sky above them still of a dark blue which got lighter and tinted with orange and pink as it reached east.

"I still think we could have woken up a little later" Edmund complained, and Peter rolled his eyes at him. Caspian silently agreed with his best friend, knowing that if it wasn't for the excitement that was running through his veins, he would be quite sleepy too. And they finally set off, the griffins dropping into the deep abyss surrounding the castle before soaring towards the sky, their magnificent wings cutting the air expertly. Finally, the forest below them gave way to the sea and the cliff where Cair stood hundreds of years ago become completely visible. Caspian, who for a moment looked after the tall, white construction with his eyes, was rather taken aback to find that there was nothing but ruins left of it, and he felt a small tingle of sadness brush against his heart. He looked at his side and saw Edmund's gaze stuck to the cliff, a serious yet unequivocally sad expression on his face; with a pang of pain, Caspian realised that the sadness he felt was nothing compared to his friends'.

"Come on, let's go" Peter commanded, signalling the griffins to land. Seeing the nostalgia and pain in the Pevensies' expressions strengthened Caspian's resolution to bring the majestic palace back to its former glory. The griffins left them in an open area close to the ruins of Cair Paravel where they were to set camp. Caspian looked around curiously, taking everything in. The pillars were broken and the marble floor was cracked and bits of it were missing, yet for him, the past splendour of the palace was still there, intact. He could feel the magic radiating from every tree, every pebble, and he turned around fascinated, his eyes eager to explore every detail of the scenery.

"Oh Caspian, I always forget you never saw how it was in the past" Lucy chirped, taking his hand and pulling him around, pointing and gesticulating as she spoke. "The floors were of the shiniest marble, like a huge white mirror, and it was decorated with the most delicate and intricate details. Those stairs over there led to the second floor. Our chambers were on the west wing and there was a long corridor with a fluffy carpet which made me trip more often than not. Ooh and here! This was our throne room! It was huge! There, on the back, was the most beautiful set of windows, so tall they reached the ceiling. And the view, oh, it was fantastic, come see!" The little queen ranted, pulling Caspian towards the broken stone balustrade of what appeared to have been a great terrace overlooking the ocean. "Isn't it beautiful?" Lucy asked, opening her arms to the soft breeze. Caspian nodded, mesmerised by the view of the clear waters below, glinting merrily with flecks of golden light. "The glass roof was over there, so that the whole room was bathed in sun all day. It was just so great at night, you could see the stars with all clarity. I know you would have loved it Caspian, it was just magical!" Lucy rambled, pointing above their heads. Caspian was listening to her words attentively, his mind effortlessly picturing everything the young queen described, blood humming in his ears out of pure excitement. A tug on his sleeve brought him back to the present moment, and he looked at Lucy, who was smiling kindly at him. "It was beautiful, wasn't it?" she asked softly, barely above a whisper. Caspian nodded, knowing exactly what she meant, somehow.

"Lucy? Caspian?" they heard Peter calling them. Lucy squeezed Caspian's hand, throwing one last glance at the crumbled thrones before they walked away to meet the others.

Caspian followed the Pevensies through the ruins and into a large stretch of grass, apple trees towering over them. The fabled Apple Orchard of Cair Paravel, he supposed, admiring the centuries-old trees as they crossed the orchard, coming to a halt in front of the ruins of a stone wall.

"Here, Caspian, give us a hand" Edmund told, pointing at a large rock protruding from the wall. Confused as to what Edmund and Peter had in mind, he helped them push the stone aside, revealing a small entrance and his curiosity was piqued by what appeared to be a broken door on the side. The stairs were dark as they descended, taking care not to trip. Edmund whispered a curse and was swatted in the arm by either Susan or Peter.

"I just realised I forgot my torch!" he defended, his outraged glare audible in his tone. The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the narrow flight of stairs, followed by a sigh.

"There goes another good shirt" Susan said, Peter's eye-roll so evident that they could almost hear it. After fiddling with some pebbles, Peter managed to light up his improvised torch, and they were finally able to see where they were walking and reaching the metal gates enclosing the treasure room a few moments later. Once Ed and Peter had lit the torches in the walls, Caspian could not contain a gasp of surprise, his eyes travelling around the room in wonder. Armours and several other metallic objects shone under the flicker of the flames, carvings and drawings of Aslan everywhere. He reached towards a helmet, stopping a few centimetres from it, his foot kicking something on the floor which caught his attention. He picked up what he thought was a pebble but turned out to be a bright sapphire, so big it fitted in his entire palm. Astounded, he dropped his gaze to the floor and found piles of rubies, emeralds, opals, and many other gems unfamiliar to him.

"This place needs some sorting out" Susan exhaled, wrinkling her nose at the messy state of the not so small vault.

"We will come back for that some other day, we'll need more hands than just us" Edmund told her, picking up a shield from a nearby pile of coins, causing them to spill. Susan sighed, having to agree with him.

Caspian's heart was beating with incredible force, and he felt that everything he touched transmitted magic into his body, the place so full of history that every item held the promise of an amazing story. He wished the Professor was here with them.

"With your permission, I would like to take some things back to the Professor. For years he has told me stories about the treasures of the Golden Age, it would make him so happy to actually hold one of them in his hands" he asked with uncharacteristic shyness.

"Already a step ahead of you" Edmund said, pointing to a box Peter was filling with books, maps, blueprints, and an assortment of artefacts.

"Be our guest" Peter prompted, noticing the scroll of parchment in Caspian's hand. Caspian nodded and dropped a few books and scrolls into the box.

"I was with the Professor in his study a few days ago, his collection of Narnian objects is truly astounding, I only wonder where he will put these" Peter told with a chuckle.

"I have been thinking of giving him one of the conference rooms next to the library, although I am sure that even such a room would be full to capacity in no time. I also think he is rather attached to his study, so perhaps you will help me convince him?" Caspian suggested.

"Sure" came Peter's simple reply.

Susan then insisted that they at least piled the gems and the gold, claiming it would be dangerous if someone tripped or slipped by stepping on them. Once they had piled all the gold and gems – the quantity and variety of the latter successfully impressing Caspian – they decided to get something to eat, having spent hours straight without a single bite. Re-emerging into the orchard, they chose to sit under the shadow of a huge apple tree and feasted upon the food they had brought along, praising the castle cooks.

"I was thinking," Ed commented, his words slightly distorted by the food in his mouth.

"Oh, do not overexert yourself" Peter joked, earning a dark glare from the Just King.

"In all seriousness, though, I was thinking we could use some of the gold and gems in the reconstruction" Ed suggested, Caspian giving him an astonished look.

"How do you know?" he asked, swallowing a bite of a sandwich in a hurry, almost choking on it.

"Susan told us" Edmund said, matter-of-factly. "I am all for it" he added with a grin, patting Caspian on the shoulder. Peter inclined his head slightly, signalling his agreement.

"Yes! It is a lovely idea, Caspian, thank you, you're the best!" Lucy squealed, hugging him excitedly, almost knocking him out of balance. Her siblings smiled at her antics, yet the ghost of doubt prevented mirth from reaching their gazes.

"I think we have enough to build two Cairs, we can keep the rest as an emergency fund" Edmund commented, the others concurring with small sounds and nods.

"The problem now is where to keep everything, this place is not very safe, I'm actually impressed that nobody broken in yet" Peter spoke, concern ringing in his voice.

"So far, the rock appears to be doing a great job dissuading any thieves, I don't think anyone is expecting to find a treasure hidden here, anyway. Still, we could try to reinforce the metal gate and the entrance until we come up with a better idea" Edmund suggested. "Is there any place in the Telmarine castle were we could keep this, Caspian?" he then asked, turning to face his friend.

"Certainly, the vaults are quite safe but I would not recommend it. The castle is not frequented by people with the best of intentions, and a servant may slip the location of the treasure by accident or for a fat bag of gold" Caspian spoke, his eyes turning darker.

"Very well, then. We should start by getting a new door" Peter sighed, looking at the poor remnants of the crumbling wooden door.

Once they had finished their meal, they decided to separate and run their own errands, Caspian following Edmund back inside the treasury room. The Just King walked his way to his chest, Caspian noticing the large stone chests for the first time, previously distracted by the other objects scattered near the entrance. For brief moments he looked at the chests, the smooth stone bathed in the orange glow of the torch flames. The metallic details of the carvings glinted weakly, rust and dust dimming most of their shine. Caspian stepped closer, this time examining the statues of the four siblings guarding the chests. They looked older and so regal, intimidating yet welcoming. Caspian was fascinated; the statues did not look at all like the Kings and Queens he knew, and yet they did, the effect of time causing them to look so- mature. He noticed Peter's had a beard, a small smile playing on the Telmarine's lips as he had quite some trouble imagining the Peter he knew with a beard, it just did not suit him. The pale statue was imposing and exuded wisdom, but at the same time it made him feel as if he was being greeted by an old friend. Despite their heartfelt conversation a few days back, Peter was still far from acknowledging him as a friend, his attitude towards him still hesitant. With a sigh, Caspian hoped that one day soon it would be the real Peter and not just the statue looking at him as a good friend. Pushing his current thoughts away, he threw a glance at Susan's statue. It depicted a very beautiful woman, but not the real Gentle Queen he knew and fought along with. The statue underlined her gentle quality, certainly, and her gaze and small smile were truly caring, almost as if the sculpture actually had feelings.

"Are you going to come see my chest before or after you start snogging Susan's statue? Just checking" Edmund's tease echoed in the room, earning the King a glare from Caspian. He walked to Ed's side and looked at his friend's older, stone version.

"I don't see freckles on your statue, Edmund" he commented and the real – and younger – Ed snorted.

"Hallelujah" he said, rummaging inside his chest.

"Huh?" Caspian muttered, confused.

"Forget it" Edmund told him, shaking his head before letting a small victory sound, finding one of the objects he had been looking for. "Made by the best faun ironworkers, there is no better shield that this one, well, except for Peter's" Edmund commented, lifting a smooth iron shield for Caspian to see, his best friend reaching to touch its polished surface, his hand reflecting on the metal.

"The carvings are just magnificent" Caspian whispered, mesmerised, leaning closer to look at the fine engraving of a lion in the centre of the shield. Edmund nodded and passed him the shield, needing his hands to continue scouring the contents of the chest. Caspian put the shield on the floor with utmost care, returning to his place next to Edmund seconds later.

"Ah, here it is! This, my friend, is my best sword, it never got rusty and was always as sharp as the first day" the Just King praised, unsheathing the sword and checking it against the light before giving it to Caspian, who swung it a couple of times, the blade swiftly cutting the air.

"Very well balanced and surprisingly light, I could get used to one like this" he said, and placed it next to the shield.

"Keep it, it's yours if you want it" Edmund said in careless fashion, and Caspian stared at him wide-eyed.

"I could not possibly accept this, Edmund, it's your best sword!" he explained, shocked and humble.

"You'll give it a better use than being abandoned in a chest" Edmund said, a small smile on his lips, his eyes filled with a warm hue. "Plus, I can always take it back if we actually do stay this time" he added casually. Caspian knew his friend shied away from heartfelt moments and decided to accept his friend's present as a token of their friendship.

They spent quite some time taking things out, Caspian listening attentively to the stories Ed told him, a pile of books and other objects soon joining the sword and shield they had put aside. Some clothes were folded precariously at the bottom of the chest, and Edmund took them out. He threw them aside, knowing they were too big for him, yet reached for them a moment later as an idea struck him.

"Here, see if they fit you" he said, tossing the clothes to Caspian.

"Why?" the Telmarine asked, looking at the items in his hands.

"Consider them as your first Narnian robes" Edmund said, pulling up a pair of boots next.

Hurried steps were heard on the partially destroyed stairs, and they both tensed up, hands ready on the hilts of their swords, looking at the door in alert. They relaxed when Lucy appeared at the gates, followed by Susan and Peter.

"Ed, you made such a mess" Susan chided, pushing some of Ed's discarded clothes with her foot.

"Doesn't he always?" Peter said with a snort, making a sound of protest after Ed threw a book at him.

"Caspian, come! You have to see this!" Lucy called excitedly.

"Here, these are my story books. They were drawn by dryads, and it tells our story and so many others, Aslan appears in most of them!" the girl commented excitedly, and Caspian took a fat book in his hands, opening it and flipping the pages, enchanted by what he saw. "You can keep them if you want, I know them by memory" she said, catching the captivated look in his eyes as they roamed through the pages.

"Oh, dear Lucy, I cannot accept this, it's too very valuable to you" Caspian spoke humbly, his heart guilty for taking such a treasure from her.

"There he goes again" Edmund's voice was heard nearby, causing the others to chuckle.

"Really, take it, you can always lend it back to me if I ever want to read it, right?" Lucy assured, and Caspian's heart warmed even more to her.

"Thank you, Lucy, I will treasure it and place it in a very special place in the study so you can read it whenever you want" he told her, a big smile appearing on her face.

"Oh look, this is Mr. Tumnus, my one and only best friend in the whole of Narnia. He was the first Narnian I met, at the Lamp Post" Lucy chattered, as always when she would get excited about something. Caspian gazed at the faun in the picture, holding two bottles and a book in one hand, while on the other he held a rudimentary umbrella. The red scarf around his neck was the only thing outstanding in the brown palette of the drawing. Caspian wondered how his voice sounded like, or his personality, but from what he had heard in Lucy's stories, he was a very amicable man, as were most of the fauns he had met. Lucy pulled several more drawings out of her chest, until one caught her attention, a gasp escaping through her lips. She hurried to show it to Caspian, her siblings gathering round out of curiosity. It was a magnificent drawing of Cair Paravel, seen from the sea, standing tall and imposing on its cliff, the waves crashing on the rock at the shore. It was majestic, more impressive and beautiful than he could ever imagine, its tall towers rising into the sky, ready to touch the clouds and the sun itself. The stone of the walls was of a warm pale sandy shade that seemed to reflect the light of the sun, and he imagined it gaining an orange hue at sunset, adding to its splendour. Caspian could not tear his eyes from the majestic drawing, discovering new details the longer he stared at it.

"Caaaaaaaspiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan" he heard Lucy call him in a long flat tone, and he blinked, looking at her sheepishly.

"I am sorry, I-it's just that I have never seen a proper drawing of Cair Paravel before, at least none so realistic, it is trully beautiful!" he told her, throwing a quick glance back at the drawing.

"We could use it as a reference for the rebuilding, don't you think?" Edmund commented, and Caspian looked at him with slight surprise, not having realised he was standing next to him.

"Yes, yes, I can ask for it, and all drawings if you want, to be framed and placed wherever you want. This drawing will certainly help the architects and builders, indeed" he spoke, nodding excitedly, his mind reeling with ideas and plans.

Hours passed between small talks and laughs, Caspian spending his time wandering around the room, inspecting things with marvelled eyes and peeking inside the four chests when the siblings would call him.

"Hey, Caspian, come see" Peter called him, and he indulged, silently intrigued by the contents of the Magnificent King's chest.

"I found these old Narnian history books, do you think the Professor will like them?" Peter asked, passing Caspian the books in his hands.

"He will love them, he has spent most of his life looking for things from the past, and he has always been particularly interested in things related to the four of you; you should ask him to tell you the story of how he found the Horn" he said, explaining the Professor's most treasured hobby to the siblings.

"Ah, then he will love these, they describe Narnia before our arrival and almost every detail of the Golden Age" Peter said with a smile. "I think they even tell which clothes I wore every day of those fifteen years" he added with a laugh.

"I'll put them on the pile of things to be taken to the castle" Caspian told him, but was stopped by the King of Old.

"Hold on, I just found something that may interest you" Peter said, bringing a stack of folded letters into view.

"These are some letters I got from some other monarchs, and some others are my replies, drafts of the real ones I sent. I think they may be helpful to you, for when you need some inspiration and a little push in the right direction" Peter said with a small almost shy smile, passing the neatly stacked letters to Caspian. Caspian felt slightly aggravated at first, thinking Peter underestimated his abilities as a monarch, yet the soft gleam in the Magnificent King's dark blue eyes testified for Peter's sincere and friendly intentions. Caspian inclined his head lightly as a sign of his gratitude and walked towards the pile of objects to place the new additions to it. This was a huge step for the High King, and Caspian appreciated the gesture, for this meant that Peter was starting to consider him closer to a friend than just an ally, and that was as good a start as any.

They spent the rest of the afternoon occupied with the various objects they had found and the stories behind each of them, enjoying themselves and forgetting about time. The sun had begun its descent from the high skies when Lucy and Susan left the treasure room to get some apples, followed by Edmund who told them he would be under a tree taking a nap. Caspian was growing a bit uncomfortable by being alone with Peter, still not much at ease with the High King, and the silence was becoming a nuisance.

"I am going to see if the girls need any help" he said, moving towards the metal gates.

"Wait, there is something I need to talk to you about" Peter said seriously. Caspian froze and turned around to look at the Magnificent King, curious yet uncomfortable about Peter's sober tone. Peter dusted his hands on his trousers and rummaged inside a small bag he had brought with him, producing a small box, crafted poorly, gems aligned crookedly and missing in some places. Caspian stared at the object, speechless.

"I found it during one of my walks, in a wardrobe in one of the rooms in the farthest southern corridor. I believe it's yours" Peter said, feeling quite awkward.

"I- that box- I- I made it for my mother, for her birthday, but she died before I could give it to her" Caspian explained, sitting, or rather dropping himself on an old chair, his voice so low Peter only heard him thanks of the echo in the room. The revelation had surprised Peter and he felt a pang of guilt for bringing such painful memories to Caspian because of his selfish curiosity. At loss of what to say, he handed the box to Caspian. The former prince did not look inside the box just yet, his hands running through the carvings and gems, images of his own childish hands working on the wood flashing before him. Peter watched him, half guiltily, half curiously.

"Why do you give me this, Peter?" Caspian asked, his voice grave with sadness.

"It belongs to you, I just found it" Peter explained, and Caspian nodded, putting the box aside.

"Yet, I feel this is not what you wanted to tell me, or you would have given it to be before, in front of everyone" Caspian told him, and Peter smiled, not a bit surprised at the Telmarine's ability of seeing through his actions.

"True, I wanted to tell you about one of the letters inside the box, but more precisely about the girl mentioned in it" he said, gesturing vaguely to the box.

"Still curious, I see" Caspian said, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Wait, wait! I want to hear this as well" a voice said from the stairs, Edmund appearing through the gates an instant later.

"Have you been listening all this time?!" Peter asked, slightly outraged.

"Seriously, I have better things to do than to spy on you, Peter. I just came in looking for a cushion to sleep on and happened to hear the last bit of your conversation" Edmund replied cheekily, pulling a small stool next to Caspian.

"Weren't you going to take a nap?" Caspian asked, his lips curling into a small smirk at the glint of mischief in Ed's expression.

"It has been rescheduled" Ed replied with a grin, causing Caspian to snort.

"So, who is the girl mentioned in the letter, Caspian?" Peter enquired, looking firmly at the king in front of him, deciding to ignore his brother's interruption. Before the Just King could even ask, Caspian handed him the letter in question. Edmund's eyes scanned the page swiftly before returning it to Caspian, an eyebrow raised enquiringly. Caspian, however, was looking at a random point in the wall, his eyes glazed slightly, and Ed knew, perhaps due to the brother-like connection they shared, that Caspian was not to be interrupted.

He had been called to the Professor's office, even if his lessons had ended for the day. He entered excitedly, hoping he would get to hear another story of Old Narnia or some new facts about the Kings and Queens of Old. Yet, as he opened his mouth to greet his tutor, the old man gestured him to remain silent and take a seat.

"My Prince" he said gravely, his tone sufficing for him to understand the seriousness of the matter. "I have come into possession of this letter addressed to you, from His Majesty, the Raj" the old dwarf spoke, handing him a folded piece of parchment, the Maharabian coat of arms distinctly imprinted in the wax seal. "You must not let your uncle read this under any circumstances, My Prince, for this would put all of us in great danger. Now go, Lord Miraz must be looking for you" the dwarf said, rushing him out of his office, stopping to whisper something before he closed the door. "Astronomy tower, usual time" he spoke, the door closing with a soft creak. He stared at the closed door for a few seconds before hiding the letter under his shirt. He heard steps nearby and fought to fix his clothes into an air of normality before the person saw him, but had to leave some of the buttons undone, for the person quickly came into view.

"Ah there you are!" Miraz growled. "I have been looking for you everywhere! Have I not told you not to wander around the castle just before a meeting?!" he bellowed, grasping his arm. "And what happened to your clothes, they are all wrinkled and messy" he spoke, gesturing at his shirt.

"I..." he said, racking his brain for a plausible excuse.

"You were sneaking out with a girl again?" Miraz asked, his tone gaining a slightly irritated tone, but at least his anger seemed to have decreased a bit. He looked up at him and decided to stick to his uncle's own assumptions, trying to look like he had been caught red-handed. "Very well, I don't care what you do while you're not needed, just be careful not to impregnate any of those opportunists, I don't want any bastard children running around this castle" Miraz said harshly, his face contorting into a disgusted wince at the thought. Oh if only Miraz knew that the girls he was sneaking around with were just dryads dancing in his imagination, although there had been some real ones too. He smiled at the thought, sure that if he laughed, his uncle would lose it completely.

Later that night, he blew on his candle and stood quite still for some long moments, hoping to trick the guards his uncle had sent to monitor his room into thinking he was fast asleep. Once the clicking of their boots had become less frequent, he quietly slipped off his bed, grabbing his boots and cloak and tucking the letter inside one of the boots. He prayed for his wardrobe not to creak and opened it slowly, his ears trained on any noise coming from the corridor. Finally, he slipped into the wardrobe and pushed the wooden panel on the back, revealing the secret passage he had used countless times before. This time though, he was extra vigilant not to be seen, looking both ways in case someone passed by. The Professor met him halfway, and both walked silently, almost gliding towards the tallest tower of the castle, where they would normally watch the skies and study them. As they arrived, he put on his boots, his feet almost frozen after walking all the way there barefoot. He wrapped the cloak tightly around himself, moving closer to one of the windows, hoping to be able to read anything under such pale moonlight. The old professor grabbed his arm and gestured at an old stool and cushions, producing an oil lamp from under his cloak and lighting it, a soft orange glow bathing the room. He exchanged a grateful look with his tutor and sat on the cushions, welcoming the light heat radiating from the lamp. A tap on his shoulder made him aware of the small bottle Professor Cornelius was offering him.

"Nothing better than tea on a chilly night" his old voice said in a whisper, his tone calm and warm, as if telling a story permanently. He took the small bottle from his professor's hand, almost letting out a contented purr at the warmth that was spreading to his hand. The small flickering flame of the lamp cast an orange tinge on the parchment in his hands, enough for the dark ink and neat handwriting to be legible. He sipped from the bottle inattentively as his eyes scanned the words thoroughly, his face relaxing in relief as some of the heavy feeling that had been occupying his soul for the past few days was taken off him by the kind words of the Raj. His eyebrows curled into a frown at the warnings the monarch wrote, knowing that the Raj's concern was not unfounded. He had considered leaving Narnia in a moment of selfishness, but the Professor quickly reminded him that he could not let his people suffer under Miraz's hands, striking a chord of guilt in his heart. He could not leave Narnia before he had straightened out the truth about what had happened to-. His breath was caught in his throat at the thought and he took another sip of tea, blinking to get rid of the prickling sensation in his eyes. He folded the letter and hid it inside one of his boots, just as he had done earlier, before getting on his feet and facing Professor Cornelius.

"Thank you, Professor, I know you put yourself in danger with each of these letters. But, may I ask you how do you do it? After all, Miraz has all soldiers alert for letters and any sort of communications entering and leaving the castle" he asked, looking aside to cover his anger towards his uncle.

"Ah, a funny story, my boy. You see, I was looking for some silks at the market today and I happened to meet a friend of mine, a Maharabian merchant, a most fortuitous encounter, I must say" the old professor explained with a wink, his eyes twinkling under his glasses.

He returned to his room and carefully pulled a lose stone on the wall, revealing a small hole, where he was sure nobody would find it, at least not for a while. He could not leave the letter exposed in his room, for he knew that his uncle sent soldiers to inspect his room every other day, on the excuse of it being for his own safety. The letter remained in its secret hiding spot for several days, until Miraz's blatant ransacking became too dangerous, forcing him to change its location. With his tutor's help, he managed to slip into the south wing of the castle, which had quickly fallen into disuse, the dozens of rooms filled with old furniture, broken goods and abandoned treasures. One room in particular stored most of his mother's belongings and some furniture, including a majestic wardrobe where she had kept the most personal of items. There, he had left the handcrafted jewel box he had made for his mother so many years ago. He placed the letter inside, under his old drawings, and returned the box to its place, making sure to leave no trace of his little excursion before returning to his professor's study. It proved to be a wise decision, for Miraz grew increasingly suspicious of him, tightening the guard around him. The searches on his room also became more frequent and violent, as he came to find in later weeks, when he found his chamber completely wrecked upon opening the door, his things scattered all over the room, his bed covers practically ripped, leaving the mattress exposed. Feathers covered most of the bed and the floor, the poor remains of his pillow lying discarded nearby. As much as Miraz feigned ignorance on the attacks and pretended to condemn the act, he knew it was him, it had always been him.

And now the box was lying on his lap, still containing the tokens of his past, all except the letter in Edmund's hand.

"Look," Caspian said, exhaling a long sigh and dropping his shoulders. "I wish nothing more than to share this with you, but it is not safe, not just yet" Caspian explained, looking sincerely troubled by this matter.

"Why is it not safe? Is there someone threatening you?" Edmund asked, puzzled.

"Not me, they could hurt her. There are many Telmarines who still see me as a traitor and, as you could see, many lords of the Council would take sick pleasure into hurting this person to affect me, so there remains a fair amount to things I need to take care of before I can't even dare to say her name" Caspian said, his tone gaining an angered nuance as he spoke. Peter and Edmund remained silent, accepting and understanding Caspian's reasons.

"Is there anything we can do to help? We won't let them hurt this girl, whoever she is" Peter told. Caspian smiled, touched by the King's concern.

"It's not that easy. To start, I don't even know if she is still in Archenland or has moved somewhere else. As you can probably guess, I have lost all contact with her, actually, the last time I had news from her was in that letter" Caspian explained, pointing to the paper in Ed's hands. "She is a very important person to me and I don't want her to be hurt. This is why I prefer to keep her in the past, until it's safe enough to bring her into the present. I can only plead for your understanding" Caspian replied, looking at the Pevensie brothers with a sad smile. Edmund nodded and reached to squeeze his friend's shoulder encouragingly; he knew from experience that certain secrets are better kept in order to protect one's beloved. Peter sighed and nodded, giving up on his curiosity.

"I only hope you can tell us someday soon" he said, looking up at Caspian with a small but sincere smile, a wordless gesture that carried a much greater expression of friendship than the King could have ever expressed with words.

"Certainly, in fact, I'll make sure you actually meet her" Caspian said, smirking after what seemed like an eternity to him.

"Well, I think we should go up make sure Lucy didn't get herself in trouble and help Susan pack everything up, it must be quite late already" Peter said, standing to his feet and dusting off his pants, Edmund and Caspian mirroring him right after.

The sun was setting leisurely in the horizon when they emerged from the treasure room, the sky greeting them with an astounding palette of pink, orange, gold and lavender.

"I was about to come looking for you, I thought maybe you got buried under a pile of old things" Susan said with the hint of a joke, Caspian's lips unconsciously curling into a smile. "Do you think we'll make it to the castle on time?" she asked Peter, who frowned and looked up to the sky.

"No, it will be dark before we even reach the forest. I will go meet the griffins and hear their thoughts on the matter" he answered, sighing.

"I, for one, don't mind staying here, it will be like the old times" Edmund commented, leaning into the nearest tree.

"I don't mind either" Caspian agreed, a bit too eagerly. A rustle of leaves nearby caused them all to tense defensively.

"It's just me, guys, I won't bite you" Lucy said, making her way through the branches of the apple tree she had climbed.

"Um, you have bit me before..?" Edmund pointed out and Lucy grinned.

"So, should we stay here tonight? I believe we could camp here, perhaps improvise some sort of shelter" Caspian asked, analysing their surroundings.

"Yes we should! There are so many things I haven't done yet!" Lucy said excitedly, jumping into Ed's arms as he helped her to down the tree.

"I don't know, we are expected at the castle" Peter said, his tone rather hesitant.

"Oh pleaaaaaasee! Caspian has to see the splendid view of the sea in the morning!" Lucy whined, tugging at her brother's sleeve.

"I don't know, Lu, I mean, we didn't bring enough food or covers" he explained feebly, rubbing the back of his head, not quite appearing to be against the idea.

"Pete pleaaaaaseeee!" Lucy whined again, looking at him with her best puppy eyes. Peter sighed, Lucy was looking at him with her big sparkly blue eyes, her lower lip sticking out in a soft pout, and although he knew she was doing it on purpose, it worked every time.

"Alright, we can stay, I suppose the treasure room will be warm enough if we light a good fire, maybe there will be some cloaks in our chests we can use as covers" he said, resigning himself to the fact that Lucy had him wrapped around her evil little finger. Lucy jumped happily and hugged him, kissing his cheek repeatedly.

"As always, I am one step ahead of you, Peter. I asked the cooks to pack some extra food and drink, and packed some covers just in case. I had a feeling this could happen" Susan told them, walking to a large wicker case and pulling one of the covers out. "Su, you are wonderful" Edmund praised, uncovering the case containing the food and wine, earning a smile from his sister.

"I'll go get some wood for the fire" Susan offered. "I'll help you" Caspian volunteered, catching up to the Queen after a couple of strides, his eagerness not passing unnoticed by the three other Pevensies. Lucy giggled and Peter lifted his eyebrows, battling the urge to roll his eyes.

"Don't get too carried away, aye?" Edmund called mockingly behind them as they walked towards the trees, and Caspian turned to glare at his friend, who only smirked mischievously.

Caspian and Susan crossed the apple orchard, gathering bits of wood and sticks as they made their way to the forest, where in ancient times – for Caspian, since for Susan it had been merely a year – the palace of Cair Paravel rose imposingly above the dark green of the tree tops. The day was still clear enough for them to see their way, but the light was slightly dimmed as they entered the mass of trees, small beams of sun peeking weakly behind leaves and branches. A comfortable silence fell between them, interrupted only by the sound of their steps and the rustle of the leaves in the wind. They gathered a reasonable amount of wood in no time, enough to keep the fire burning for the night. Once they had both decided they had enough sticks and branches, they returned to the castle, Susan leading them through different path which took them through the outer ruins of Cair. After a few minutes of walking through tall trees and a sea of ferns, they reached a small balcony that appeared to have been carved on the cliff itself, overlooking a small nook of the white beach and offering a more secluded yet breath-taking view of the Eastern Ocean. Caspian was captivated by the simple yet enchanting display before him; the sky reflected on the water and the small orange rays of the dying sun glittered as golden specks in its surface. The sky was gaining a darkening blue hue, a few stars already twinkling shyly, ready to start making their glowing way into the velvety night. Caspian took his eyes away from the splendid scenery to look at Susan, who like him was enjoying the majestic setting. A pleasant breeze blew around them and they both closed their eyes, breathing deeply into the refreshing scent of forest and sea blending together. Placing the stack of wood on the floor, Caspian leaned on the partially destroyed railing of the stone balcony, right next to Susan. The King and Queen remained silent, looking at the sun's languid descent, and with it, the gradual extinction of daylight as minutes passed.

"This used to be my not-so-secret spot" Susan commented, still looking ahead. "I used to come and spend hours leaning on this railing, looking at the sky or at the sea. This view had a soothing effect on me, it helped me ease my thoughts when I needed it the most" she explained, sensing his silent question.

"It is not hard to believe, I would have done the same" he spoke, still looking ahead. "Although it would be hard to decide which view is the finest; Cair Paravel was truly a most beautiful place" he added, barely above a whisper.

"It was, we were so happy here" she whispered back.

"You will be again, once we rebuild it" Caspian murmured.

"If we are still here" she said, sadness making its way into her voice.

"And you will" Caspian stated firmly, squeezing her hand gently. "Such a majestic view does not deserve to be marred by fear and uncertainty. Let the dying sun take away your sorrow and enjoy" he whispered almost inaudibly close to her ear. And for the first time in days she relaxed and allowed the salty smell of seawater and the rhythmic sound of the waves soothe her mind. Caspian threw a discrete look at her and was happy to see a spark in her eyes again. He traced the outline of her face, the elegant and fine line of her nose and the soft curves of her lips which were now shaped into a small smile of contentment. For a split second he wished he could run his thumb over them, see if they were as plump and soft as they appeared to be. The Telmarine King choked on the sudden realisation of the improper implications of such thoughts, resulting in a violent fit of coughing. Susan hurried to pat his back, looking slightly alarmed.

"Insect" he managed to explain in a strangled voice between coughs, cursing himself for making such a fool of himself in front of her. "It's alright you can laugh" he told her a moment later, once he had got a hold of his coughing, having caught her biting her lips to repress a smile. Susan threw him an apologising look before she broke into laughter, a sound so pure and merry he could not help joining her, his swollen ego forgotten.

"I'm sorry, I know this is no laughing matter" she apologised.

"Don't be, I would have been the first to laugh if I weren't, well, coughing" Caspian said with a chuckle.

"I remember this one time we had to interrupt a ceremony because Peter swallowed a bee during his speech and it stung the inside of his cheek in the process. His face was swollen for the next three days and he looked like he had a whole apple in his mouth, it was hilarious!" Susan told and exchanged a look with him before both burst into laughter. "And of course Ed, being the good brother he is, not only clobbered poor Peter in the back as he choked but diligently cracked as many jokes as he could weave into conversation for weeks after the incident" Susan added. Caspian chuckled, having no trouble imagining the extent of his best friend's wicked delight at Peter's misery.

"I shouldn't be laughing" Caspian said, feeling a bit guilty.

"Oh please, we all laughed about it. Lucy had to leave the room several times in a fit of giggles. Surely Ed will bark with laughter once I remind him about it" Susan assured him.

The conversation soon evolved from Peter's hilarious misfortunes to all sorts of funny stories, both from Caspian's and Susan's childhoods.

"This Mrs Macready seems scary" Caspian commented as she told him about the time they spent in Professor Kirke's country house, more specifically about the time when they broke one of the windows whilst playing cricket.

"She was! But I can't help thinking fondly of her, after all, one way or another she was indirectly responsible for us coming to Narnia the first time" she said, smiling at the memory.

"Was this Professor Kirke a nice person? Did he know about Narnia?" Caspian asked curiously, not knowing of anyone other than the Pevensies having been to Narnia from another world.

"He was kind to us, even if we were quite intimidated by him. He was the only one who believed Lucy was not lying about Narnia, so I suppose he knew about it. I don't know how he knew or how much, but he believed us" Susan pondered.

"So were you visiting him when you came back this time as well? I just realised I never asked you how you got here" Caspian asked, and she told him the story, doing her best to explain what an underground train was without scaring Caspian to death. "So why were you in this place to start with?" Caspian enquired, growing very interested at the story.

"We were going back home after school, but then Peter got into a fight, and Edmund intervened..." Susan trailed off, frowning lightly.

"Peter and Edmund got into a fight?! Why?" Caspian asked, surprised that the two kings used violence instead of diplomacy.

"I am not sure and I don't think I will ever understand, but I suppose the frustration of not being in Narnia had something to do with it, I mean, given the circumstances of our lives in- there, they had to behave like kids, like what we all were, and still are" she told him, and Caspian remembered the talk he had with Edmund not long ago.

"To me you are a Queen and will always be" Caspian whispered, and Susan looked at him, grateful for his comment.

"By Aslan, it is so late! We should have headed back ages ago! The others must be looking for us, we have to go" she exclaimed, realising that night had fallen already and stars twinkled merrily above their heads. As she slid off the railing she had been sitting on until then, she cut her hand on a broken edge, eliciting a loud hiss from the queen. Caspian looked at her and took her hand in his as he saw a dark streak of blood dripping from her palm. He frowned slightly, the moonlight proving to be poor illumination to examine the wound, but for what he could see the gash did not seem too deep. His hand quickly fumbled inside one of his trouser pockets for a handkerchief, using it to wipe off some of the blood, subconsciously moving closer to Susan, leaning into her hand. Despite the pain searing through her hand, having him so close to her made her blush. Feeling foolish, she looked away, not wanting Caspian to notice her flush. Against the chillier evening air, his hand felt warm against hers, his touch tender as he wiped off the blood, careful not to cause her any further pain. She gasped and hissed as the handkerchief touched the wound, causing him to look apologetically at her.

"I'm sorry, I am trying to get a better look at the wound" he explained. Susan nodded and managed to give him a pained smile. Gesturing for him to continue, she took a deep breath, hoping it would distract her from the throbbing pain in her hand. As she took another breath, she noticed that the salty fragrance of the sea was laced with another subtle scent. She distinguished a strong hint of cedarwood and lemon woven with a delicate whisper of mint, resulting in a slightly citric, woody yet refreshing combination, a fragrance that was very... manly. Susan opened her eyes wide, feeling her face burning crimson and her heart beating erratically in her chest. The subtle fragrance was Caspian's scent. Still looking away, she frowned, chiding herself for letting an insignificant detail put her in such a silly state. Yet, she had to admit that his scent was a perfect mix of intense and delicate, just like he was. A loud ripping sound pulled her off her musings and she looked at Caspian, who was tearing a piece of his shirt.

"Caspian, please, there's no need-" she told uselessly as he started wrapping the improvised bandage around her hand.

"There you go, this should do for now" he said, closing her hand and patting it softly.

"Did you really need to ruin your shirt? I brought some bandages with me, I would have been fine until we got back to the camp" she noted.

"I- I couldn't let you bleed all the way through the forest, not if I could help it, it wouldn't be right" he answered gravely, the serious look on his eyes causing her to drop her argument. "You would have done the same for me" he added with a small crooked smile.

"Sorry, you are right. I didn't mean to be rude" she told shyly, biting her lip. "I- thank you, you were very kind" she said, standing on her toes and kissing his cheek.

"I found them, Pete!" Ed's voice said close by, startling the two monarchs. Edmund's thin frame came into view an instant later, torch in hand. "Where the hell were you?! We have been looking for- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt" he noted, smirking smugly at the couple's holding hands. Caspian let go of Susan's hand immediately and stepped back, king and queen looking away and blushing furiously.

"There was nothing to interrupt, Ed, Caspian was just bandaging my hand" Susan told, waving her injured palm and marching towards the forest, utterly mortified at the awkward situation. Edmund would not let her live this one down.

"Sure" Edmund spoke, not at all convinced, yet he dropped the matter when Susan shot him a death glare. Exhaling loudly, the Just King walked over to his best friend and picked some of the firewood, unable to repress a smirk.

"Oh, shut up" Caspian told grumpily, grabbing a pile of firewood and storming away. Shaking his head, Edmund picked up the remaining twigs and branches and followed his best friend. Truth was, their feelings for each other were so evident he had nothing to say.

Back at the camp, the kings got the fire going in no time and soon, they were all sitting around it, feasting on its warmth and on the great meal.

"Didn't we have something scheduled tomorrow?" Edmund asked suddenly, frowning at the nagging feeling of forgetting something.

"Not that I can remember" Peter replied, taking a bite of his chicken leg.

"We had a Council meeting" Susan reminded them, eliciting a loud groan from the other four monarchs.

"I, for one, do not mind missing it" Caspian said, smirking sheepishly.

"Me either and I'm considering coming here every week and miss the other meetings on purpose" Edmund said, sharing Caspian's smirk, the Telmarine King agreeing with his best friend with a chuckle.

"Oh well, we will come up with an excuse for our delay tomorrow. I can't say I feel too bad about having the Council lords waiting for us all day" Peter spoke, surprising Caspian with his nonchalance.

"Speaking of the lords, Caspian, you seem to know quite an awful lot about their obscure deeds, care to share?" Edmund commented, causing Caspian to look at him and raise an eyebrow.

"It is not as interesting as you think" Caspian replied.

"We will decide on that after you tell us" Ed retorted with a grin. Caspian exhaled loudly and rolled his eyes.

"You are one persistent git, you know that?" Caspian told, a hint of mirth behind his annoyed tone.

"I do my best" Ed said with a cocky wink.

He was in his room, sitting on the bed, his boot tapping the floor impatiently, frustrated at his own inability to stop the web of plots happening around him. Miraz had gone too far this time and there was nothing he could do. He snorted sourly; being the heir to the throne was useless until he came of age, while in the meantime his rightful place was being occupied by his so called protector. 'Lord Protector', that was just another of Miraz's lies for he never intended to protect him, rather the opposite, always looking at him as nothing more than a bother, a burden he was forced to bear as a means to power. And why was he going to such a trouble? Because of a signature, that was the only use his uncle had for him. In front of the eyes of Narnia, Miraz so hypocritically pretended to care for him, treat him like his own son; his act so well played, so believable, that no one would ever think he was capable of hurting him in anyway. Ha! If they knew what happened behind doors. How many times had Miraz slapped him for saying or acting in a way he disapproved, how many times he had threatened him, how many times he had grabbed him by the shirt before hissing a menace to his face. Yet, no matter how much he wanted to retaliate, his hands were tied; Miraz had bribed himself into power and had supporters whereas he was on his own. The scratching sound of paper sliding over stone broke him off his dark line of thought and he spotted the piece of parchment that had been pushed through the space between his door and the floor. With practiced care, he silently stepped towards the letter and unfolded it quietly, eyes rushing over the slanted handwriting. Hope flamed in his soul as he went through the words, words of someone who disagreed with the path Miraz had chosen and the way he ruled, someone who was willing to help him. The scribbled words did not say much more, but held the promise of more information in the near future along with warnings and advice to keep his eyes open to everything that happened around him. A small smile appeared on his lips as he read the signature, making a mental note to show his gratitude to Lord Tumar somehow. The lord's family had been close to his mother's, and he knew she had been quite fond of the plump nobleman. Lord Tumar had risked his life writing to him and he knew his own life would be at stake if this letter was found. Feeling a little more confident, he hid the letter behind the loose stone on his wall, adding to the few others he had received. So far this had proven to be a safe spot for his most personal belongings, things he did not want Miraz getting his hands on.

Over the next days, more letters were delivered to him through several methods, some thrown through his open window wrapped around a stone, or through the Professor. The letters were normally brief, but containing very precious information, some even providing him with locations and details of Miraz's conversations with other Council lords. The messages always included words of support and calls for patience and courage. Sometimes words from other dissenting lords were attached, and he felt a deep appreciation for them, for their kind if succinct words confirmed that he was not alone in opposing Miraz.

"The letters are on the box, Peter, you can read them if you want" Caspian told, interrupting his story and gesturing towards the wooden box lying forgotten along with Peter's stuff.

"We'll go through them later, now continue" Edmund pressed, his interest in the story quite evident.

He was having great trouble keeping himself still and quiet, the adrenaline of the moment pulsating in his veins. Yet, it was imperative that he passed unnoticed by the guards outside or his plan would be ruined. Lord Sarian had overheard a conversation between Miraz and Lord Haren in which both men agreed to meet at the outskirts of the castle that night. And he was going to be there. He stepped carefully towards his wardrobe and left his room through the secret passage, swiftly making his way out and avoiding the guards as he had done many times before. With the darkness of night as his ally to cover his tracks, he made his way to the meeting spot and hid behind some tall bushes, waiting for Miraz to come. He waited in silence for some moments until the sound of hooves on soil was heard. The man on the horse looked nervous, throwing looks over his shoulder ever so often before pulling his horse closer to the forest in an effort to obscure himself better. Lord Haren had always been a man of fright, always afraid of what could be done to him by someone with greater power. But even his fear was outweighed by greed, greed for more riches and possessions, and this was exactly what he suspected Miraz had offered him. Another horse pulled by soon, and he gritted his teeth, his uncle's arrogant mien unmistakeable. Miraz and Haren both dismounted from their horses and moved closer to a tree, leaning in to talk and listen to what the other was saying. He moved into the darkness to be closer and get a better look, as well as to listen.

"Don't you think it will be too obvious, Miraz? The boy will suspect a scheme brewing" Haren spoke and Miraz snorted.

"Are you scared of a boy now? Really, Haren, your lack of trust in my experience is insulting. I'll handle the boy, you just take care of the girl and make sure to take her very deep into the forest, enough for her to have no chance of coming back, if you know what I mean" Miraz hissed a whisper. Hiding behind the bushes, his blood was boiling.

"You want me to kill her?!" Haren asked, slight surprise perceptible in his tone.

"Come now, Haren, don't act clueless. Just tell your men to push her off a cliff or something, if she survives or not doesn't concern me, I just don't want her back in the castle" Miraz whispered, his tone signalling he was starting to lose patience.

"But the soldiers, are you sure they won't try to stop my men?" Haren asked again.

"Nothing Glozelle can't handle. A great captain, Glozelle, doesn't ask questions" Miraz responded with a satisfied smirk.

"Alright, but remember your promise, Miraz, those lands will be mine as soon as the job is done" Haren said, squaring his shoulders and looking straight into Miraz's eyes.

"You have my word" Miraz spoke, and the men parted, each taking his horse and disappearing into the darkness moments later. As soon as it was safe for him to move, he dropped himself back and sat on the grass, letting out a long, shaky breath. They were plotting against someone inside the castle, someone that was very important to him! He had to save her, even if it meant risking his own life.

The nights after that fateful encounter were sleepless to him, his heart dying with worry over the girl that was to be abducted and probably killed. He planned to go to the forest and intercept the men while they took her away, as risky as it seemed. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself before sliding through the back of his wardrobe. However, the Professor was waiting for him at the other end and prevented him from going any further.

"Professor, she- they are going to kill her!" he exclaimed, looking at his professor, his eyes overflowed with despair under the feeble moonlight that filtered through a distant window.

"It is meant to be, my Prince. But worry not, no harm will befall her, help is on its way" Professor Cornelius whispered and pushed him back into his room, closing the wardrobe's wooden back and locking it. Help? But who could help her now? Who knew about her being in danger? With all these questions pounding in his head, he shut his eyes closed and hoped that whoever it was would arrive on time.

"Did they manage to save her?" Lucy asked, and Caspian could see great concern in her expression.

"Yes, they did, as it says in the letter from the maharajah" he explained, shifting his gaze from Lucy to Peter. Lucy shared a clueless look with Susan.

"And who is she?" Lucy asked again, and Caspian smiled at her innocent curiosity.

"Someone you may get to meet soon" Caspian replied and Lucy hinted she ought not to enquire further.

"That's not the end, is it? I mean, you sure continued to spy on Miraz after that, right?" Edmund asked, looking at him almost expectantly.

"Of course" Caspian answered, not being able to contain a chuckle at the eager spark in Edmund's distinctive cunning expression. Certainly, his friend would never show his interest so easily, always preferring to appear cool and indifferent, yet Caspian knew him well enough to see right through his charade.

"Then go ahead" Edmund prompted simply and Caspian nodded.

After that fateful night, following Miraz around had become one of his main occupations. He had learnt to pick up certain tell-tale signs in Miraz's demeanour; if his steps appeared urgent and careful or if he appeared more irritated than usual at the servants he passed by, he sure was up to something. Several times he had gotten carried away by his curiosity and had been spotted by the guards or by his aunt, forcing him to invent excused as to why he was wandering around the castle. Even Miraz had caught him once as he eavesdropped on his conversation. That had been a close call, but the experience of years of strained interactions with Miraz had taught him that there was a perfect excuse for his meanderings and allowed him to escape his uncle's wrath, one that annoyed Miraz, but did not trouble him much: girls. Thanking Aslan for gifting him with a quick mind and a talent for words, he had managed to spin a believable story which earnt him an irritated glare from his uncle but nothing more. It worked every time, yet he could not help feeling that Miraz half expected this womanising behaviour from him. Certainly, he knew that the kings before him had had their escapades with mistresses and servants, and it disgusted him to think that his own father was likely to have had a mistress, or several, of his own. These thoughts inevitably led to his mother. In his memories she was always happy, her beautiful face lit up by her warm smile. He had been too young to notice any grief, any suffering, but he had a feeling she was aware of her husband's flings. Shaking his head, he focused on the task at hand, swallowing the bitter taste of anger his musings had prompted. He walked towards the room Miraz had just entered, careful not to make his steps heard. The door was closed but he could hear muffled voices inside. He had devised a backup plan in the event of something like this happening, so he slid his way towards the servant's entrance, hoping that he would hear better from there. A wide smirk stretched on his lips when he found the door slightly ajar and pushed it quietly. This door, used very rarely, was practically hidden behind a shelf, providing him with a privileged hiding and eavesdropping spot.

"You will need the boy's signature to dispose of those lands, Miraz" the still unidentified lord said, and he hinted some disbelief in his voice.

"I am the Lord Protector, my signature is enough" Miraz told the man and both laughed conspiringly.

"Very well. I suppose you can now tell me why you need this law to be passed so- um, fervently? I am afraid I do not see what your gain from it would be" the lord asked, and he tensed, leaning forward and listening more intently.

"Oh, we would all gain from it. Wouldn't you love not to pay your servants? Help me and they can become your slaves. Also, I know some slave dealers in Calormen who could provide some very beautiful dancers to… entertain us" Miraz told, sounding very confident on how to manipulate and convince the man in front of him. Behind the shelf, he was having trouble keeping his breathing quiet, anger causing his breath to come out in pants. Slaves! This was a new level of despicable even to Miraz's standards! He shuddered in disgust at the thought of poor Calormene girls forced to please repulsive old men. And yet, the thought of Miraz knowing slave traders did not surprise him, nor did his unspoken but clear intentions of cheating on his wife. Ironic, since he would profess his undying love for Prunaprismia to whoever listened.

Caspian did not stay to hear the end of the conversation. His stomach was turning with bitter wrath at the man he had the misfortune of calling uncle. His feet took him to the only place he considered safe in the whole castle and he knocked on the door. Old Professor Cornelius opened the door an instant later, a pipe in his mouth.

"My dear boy, what brings you here at this hour?" his mentor asked, his thick eyebrows frowned. He moved aside and let him in, locking the door behind him. He was shaking with anger and wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs. He sat down in one of the unoccupied armchairs and shook his head at the Professor's offer for tea.

"What is it that troubles you, young Prince?" the old dwarf asked, concern visible in his usually twinkling eyes. He told him about everything he had heard, and for a moment expected to be lectured about how wrong it was to listen behind doors, but the Professor appeared to be more interested on the subject of the talk than on lecturing his pupil. They discussed possible solutions and plans for quite a long time, the old tutor consulting books and other documents in search of something that could help them. By the time he left the cosy study much later, they had come with an exceedingly clever plan.

The lords' voices were buzzing at the Council room the next day, all wondering why a meeting had been called. As Miraz arrived, they all looked at him and demanded an explanation for the sudden meeting, to which he, perhaps for the first time in years, was genuinely stunned, having understood it was the lords who had called the meeting.

"If it was not you Miraz, then who gathered us here?" one of the lords asked.

"I did" he answered, entering the room through one of the side doors, silence falling in the room as the lords looked confused at their prince before the buzzing of voices resumed even more vigorously. "I have called you," he spoke, using the lords' astonishment to his favour. "To inform you of my request for every major laws pending approval to be read and signed by me before they can be put into effect" he stated simply, climbing the first few steps to the throne.

"But His Majesty is not entitled to-" one of the lords argued, but was interrupted.

"Am I not the heir to the throne? As such, I need to know what happens inside my kingdom, Your Lordship, how can I ever be a good king if I don't know the laws of my own country?" he spoke in a patronising tone, and he was pleased to see that the lords were speechless for a moment.

"Caspian, this is not the time for jokes" Miraz said, clearly making an effort to keep his anger from his voice.

"Oh, I am not joking, Uncle" he responded calmly, practically spitting his address to Miraz. "Have you not told me to become interested in the kingdom's matters? It is exactly what I am doing" he continued, looking innocently at his uncle.

"Your Highness needs the Council votes for this petition to be considered" a lord spoke and Caspian sighed.

"You are mistaken, Lord Garrien, this is not a petition, it's an order. I am my father's one and only heir, blood of his blood, that alone is enough reason for you to hand me those documents" he explained, barely containing his satisfaction at the lords' flabbergasted expressions. A swift look at the room helped him spot the royal secretary, a scared looking man holding a handful of documents, and he approached him, taking them from his hand and walking to the main door with a resolute and confident stride.

"Have a very good morning, My Lords" he said with a smirk, disappearing through the open door, leaving the bunch of men staring in shock at his retreating back.

He received congratulatory notes from the dissenting lords for his clever intervention, and this allowed him to hinder Miraz's plots to some extent, gaining more information from his doings and plans. He, of course had been yelled at and beaten by Miraz for his blatant meddling in political matters, and he relished at the idea that part of his uncle's anger came from the fact that the Lord Protector had been partly responsible for encouraging his nephew's sudden interest in politics. His impromptu participation in national affairs forced Miraz to hide his secret agenda even better, making it much more difficult for him to spy on his conversations. His uncle's secretive meetings would rarely take place inside the castle, but moved to more private locations where the presence of the heir to the throne would be easily noticed. He pointed out this flaw in the plan to the Professor, yet his tutor disregarded it as a minor detail, his eyes twinkling brighter than usual. Nonetheless, he asked him to be patient and stop risking himself. In the following weeks, he received more information on Miraz's plans in short notes handed to him by his tutor.

"How do you get this information, Professor?" he questioned him one day, his voice low in case someone had been listening behind the door.

"My dear boy, old age comes with the advantage of experience, and I can tell you that tongues slip at the shine of gold. It is common knowledge that many a servant has been ill-treated by their masters and some extra gold in their pockets is enough encouragement for them to betray their secrets" Cornelius explained, resting back on his armchair and putting his pipe in his mouth, the twinkle in his eyes dancing to the tune of shrewdness.

"This feels like the plot of a Sherlock Holmes story!" Edmund exclaimed as Caspian finished his tale. Lucy giggled at the look of utter confusion on the Telmarine's face.

"Sherlock Holmes is a character from a series of books. You would love him, he has incredible observation skills and can solve the most complicate crimes with astonishing accuracy and flawless reasoning. He's my hero, I've read all his stories" Edmund explained, wishing Caspian could read the famous detective stories from his time.

"Oh, I remember you were besotted with them. I remember lending you a small fortune so you could ran to the nearest twopenny library to borrow the books. That was also around the time you ran around with that magnifying glass" Peter spoke, his voice carrying an air of nostalgia and mockery, the latter accentuated by his smirk.

"I think I remember a few of the mysteries you invented and all the clues you planted around the house and the garden only to go mumbling about plans and theories. I also recall Mother telling you to let Lucy play with you, or to stop pretending she was the evil mastermind behind the crime. Oh my, weren't you a hilarious sight with that bubble pipe!" Susan added, laughing at the memory of Edmund sitting on their father's armchair, pretending to be deep in thought, nibbling on the bubbling pipe.

"That is true! I always ended up in your invented prison!" Lucy complained, Caspian joining Peter and Susan in laughter.

"Yes, those were wonderful times, you can cut the mockery now" Edmund yelled above the laughter, huffing as the laughs only got louder.

"There is something I don't understand," Peter said once the laughter had died and they had convinced Edmund to speak to them again. "Why didn't you expose the lords before?" he asked, interested in why Caspian had kept this information secret for so long.

"Survival. Miraz did not need any more allies and I could not afford having more people wishing me dead. I had to choose between risking my life and probably having to flee Narnia or keeping quiet until they were no longer that big a threat, until the day I held enough power for them to fear me. I only wish it didn't have to be this way" Caspian explained, looking deep into the fire, all traces of mirth gone from his gaze.

"And we believe you" Susan said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

"Indeed, we know you would not do this unless it was your last resort. By the looks of it, there seems to be no civilised way to deal with those men" Edmund spoke, patting him on the back.

"Please, the night is too beautiful for politics, let's not ruin it" Lucy pleaded.

"I agree, why waste our breath on dim-witted old men when there are so many funny anecdotes to remember, like that time Edmund really needed to go to the bathroom at night and he mistook the wardro-" Peter started, managing to mirror Ed's impish smirk to perfection.

"SHUT IT!" Edmund yelled desperately, throwing what was left of his chicken leg at Peter in an effort to silence him, causing the others to laugh, the whole exchange livening up Caspian's mood almost immediately.

Hours later, the conversation had steered towards the Golden Age, more specifically to the great parties at Cair Paravel, one of Lucy's favourite subjects.

"Remember that summer solstice ball to which King Lune brought those wonderful jewels?" Lucy said after a moment of silence, looking up at the stars and tracing the familiar constellations in her mind.

"Oh, that was a lovely night, we had so much fun" Susan replied, smiling warmly.

"If my memory serves me well, it was that party where Ed spent half the night hiding and running from the twin daughters of that Calormene tarkaan" Peter commented amusedly, chuckling as a pebble hit his chest, courtesy of his brother.

"Did you see how they were touching me?! They would have torn off my clothes if I didn't leave!" Edmund groaned defensively.

"Curious, I remember you appearing to be rather pleased with the attention" Susan noted, a small smirk gracing her lips.

"What is it with you people today? Is it 'Mock Edmund Day' and I am not aware?" Edmund retorted, scandalised, propping up from his lying position to shoot an outraged look at his family.

"Payback" Peter replied simply, and Edmund huffed, his reaction causing the others to burst in peals of laughter, successfully worsening the Just King's mood.

"Alright, let's leave Ed alone, we've been quite mean" Susan said gently, hoping Ed would take it as a peace offering. Silence settled pleasantly among them once more, the ghost of laughter still ringing in the air.

"I miss Corin and Cor, they were so sweet! I just wish I had been younger then, I bet the three of us would have had more fun together if I wasn't a grown up" Lucy commented, pulling a smile from Caspian, who had never heard a child wanting to be younger, rather the contrary. Yet, somehow, hearing it from Lucy made sense.

"Yes, but if you were younger, you and Peridan would not have become so close" Susan commented, causing Peter to groan and the Valiant Queen to blush brightly.

"Peridan was an Archen knight, a fine soldier and a good friend. He and Lucy were sweet on each other" Edmund explained to the clueless Caspian, making a grimace at the latter reference. Caspian smiled and looked at the blushing Lucy, endeared and yet pleasantly surprised; he sometimes forgot the little queen had not always been so little.

"Corin was a great boxer, I have to admit that friendly fight we had was very interesting" Peter admitted, clearing his throat loudly.

"Oh yes, it was interesting, alright. My favourite part was when he punched you and gave you that brilliant black eye. Yes, that was a good day" Ed spoke, resentment outstripped by the prospect of harassing Peter.

"Oh, it was hysterical! that eye patch you had to wear was god-awful!" Lucy said, earning a glare from Peter.

"The epitome of kingly" Susan added, sending the others into a fit of laughter. The Pevensies carried on telling their tales of the past as they all lied down on the grass and Caspian listened keenly, his mind full of vivid images of the stories. Quietly, he rolled to his side and shot a shy glance at Susan. She was looking up, her arm tucked under her head, her clear eyes dusted with the reflection of the stars in the sky. Her smile was nostalgic but pleasant, her expression relaxed and full of joy. And he felt his lips tugging up into a smile as well, a warm feeling invading his chest, not really registering Lucy's babble in the background. He felt that as long as Susan was smiling so, everything was right in his world. Feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks, he turned to lie on his stomach, closing his eyes and deciding to ignore the sensation that last thought had stirred in his chest. He focused on the new anecdote instead, fauns and dryads dancing before his eyes as he listened.

AN: hope you guys liked the chapter! I have great ideas for the next chapter, so stay tuned! Please let me know what you think, comments are very welcome!

Cheers!