Disclaimer: I do not own Chronicles of Narnia. I'm the wrong gender and several decades too young to be C. S. Lewis, at least.
Summary: See previous Chapter.

A/N: In Prince Caspian, the only real indication we get about ages is that it has been a year since they were last in Narnia, and that Lucy is going to boarding school for the first time. I don't know about England, but for me that puts her at about twelve, about her probable age in the BBC version. I read somewhere that Edmund is two years older than Lucy, but I don't know about Peter or Susan. If anyone can give me the proper ages, it would be much appreciated.

Chapter Two

When Caspian gained consciousness, he found himself washed up on a beach, with a pounding headache, a large cut that stung with salt water, and voices nearby. The owners of the voices were not close enough for him to identify and didn't seem to hold a Telmaranian accent, but Caspian didn't feel like taking chances.

Trying to ignore the pain in his head, Caspian scrambled over to tall apple tree and swung himself into its branches, just as four figures came into sight.

To his great relief, it was obvious that they were not Telmarine soldiers. The oldest seemed about Caspian's age, seventeen. After him was a girl a year or so younger, another boy, and a girl who looked around twelve.

Fortunately, they did not seem interested in looking for people. Caspian barely dared to breathe as the youngest girl reached up and picked an apple. "I wonder who lived here."

The older girl picked up something from the ground. From the younger boy's comment, it seemed to be a chess piece. "I think we did."

Caspian would have listened further, but his head didn't seem to approve of even the slightest movement, and Caspian was hit with a dizzy spell so strong that it was all he could do to stay in the tree. By the time he managed to open his eyes again, the youngest girl was leading her companions to a group of rock clusters. "Imagine walls, and columns over there, and a glass roof."

As she spoke, she pushed the oldest to stand at one end, then the other girl beside him. The younger boy moved to the third rock cluster of his own accord, and the girl stood beside him. The oldest boy looked around them. "Cair Paravel."

How would four children know all this, especially when the place was no more than a ruin? Doctor Cornelius had told him that the magic horn would summon the Kings and Queens of old, but surely it couldn't be this group of children! Caspian was hit by another dizzy spell, opening his eyes just in time to see the children disappear through a door that had apparently been hidden behind a wall. Well, if Caspian wanted answers, he had better follow them.

Going through the door and down a flight of stairs as quietly as possible, Caspian heard the four talking about how things had once been, and a comment about the passing of thirteen hundred years. It did lend credit to the 'Old Kings and Queen' theory, at least. Now, if he could just talk to them and hope for a straight answer…

By the grace of his ancestors, this was not what he had intended! With the worst timing possible, Caspian reached the room that the four had entered just in time to see the two girls changing into more Narnian clothing.

All right, so Caspian was an adolescent boy, and hardly opposed to the sight, but his honor and upbringing told him that spying on them was rude and disrespectful to the ladies. Not to mention likely to get him killed if their brothers found him.

Thanking the Telmarine Gods that no one had noticed him, Caspian carefully made his way back outside, waiting for them to return.

The reaction when the four emerged was very mixed. The two boys instantly drew their swords. The older girl darted behind her brothers. The younger girl ignored attempts to make her do the same and smiled at Caspian. "Hello. What's your name?"

Well, at least someone in the world wasn't out to attack, hate and/or kill him. "I am Prince Caspian. Who are y - aaah!"

Dizzy spells in the middle of an introduction hardly make a good first impression, but at least the two boys no longer had their swords aimed at him. Granted, they still looked suspicious, but there wasn't much that they could do with the youngest girl between them and Caspian, manhandling him over to sit on a rock as she pulled a flask from her belt. Caspian tried to rise again, but was firmly pushed back down. "You're hurt. Hold still."

Caspian was a prince, and the girl was at least four years younger than him, but the look she gave him was that of a much older Queen, used to being obeyed. Besides, whatever was in that flask worked wonders, so the young prince could hardly complain. "Who are you?"

The older boy extended a hand. "High King Peter, the Magnificent. These are my brother and sisters, obviously."

Caspian made a desperate attempt, mostly successful, not to laugh. High King, perhaps, but Peter was no older than him, barely out of the gangly stages of adolescence, and hardly 'Magnificent'.

Luckily for Caspian's chances of enlisting aid, the older girl, presumably Queen Susan, vocalized the thought. "You probably could have left off the last bit."

Beside him, Queen Lucy covered a giggle, exchanging glances with a smirking King Edmund. Again, Caspian forced down a burst of laughter. "Well, none of you were really the help I had been expecting when I blew the Horn. I am glad you are here, though."

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed to all business. "You blew Susan's horn? I think it's time we found out what is going on here. Perhaps we should start with what a prince is doing in a ruined castle miles from anywhere."

Frowning at the implications in King Peter's tone, Caspian ignored it for now and started his tale. Even though he knew the facts, it was not an easy story to tell. "I am running away. My uncle has always wanted my throne." He gazed out over the sea. "I suppose I have only lived this long because he did not have an heir of his own. Now that has changed, and he wishes me dead."

Queen Lucy sighed and stood up, brushing off her skirt. "It's worse than the war of the Roses. This looks like it will be a long story, so may I suggest finding somewhere to spend the night?"

It was slower in her siblings, but Caspian could almost see the transition as the four began to change from children to the Kings and Queens they had once been. King Peter straightened. "If I recall correctly, what used to be Lucy's Chamber would probably be the best." He glanced at Caspian. "Will anyone come looking for you soon?"

Caspian shook his head. "I do not think so. Telmarines fear the woods and the sea, I am not fully sure why. It will take more than Miraz's command to make them follow me here."

For some unknown reason, both King Edmund and Queen Lucy looked faintly insulted. Caspian resolved to wonder about that later as they followed the youngest Queen to what was now a fairly sheltered enclave, overlooking the sea. Once everyone had made themselves as comfortable as possible, Caspian began his tale.

"Of Narnia's history I know little, and only the Telmarine side of things. We came to Narnia led by my ancestor, Caspian the First, ten generations ago. My tutor once said that History is written by the victorious, so I do not know anything more than that there was a war, and the Old Narnians, as we call them, either fled or were all but wiped out, with only rumors of sightings here and there.

Now, stories of Old Narnia, of the White Witch and of you, the Four Golden Rulers, are dismissed as fairytales. My tutor is part dwarf, and made sure that I knew at least some of Narnia's history, but even he only knew so much, and it would have been nearly impossible to find out more. As I said, all of the old Narnians were in hiding or dead, and any left were hardly about to have a civil conversation with a Telmarine.

I do know that not long after I was born, my mother died, and Miraz killed my father when I was only a small boy, calling himself Lord Protector by right of being my uncle.

The only things standing between him and the Telmarine throne were myself and his lack of an heir. Yesterday, my aunt gave birth to a son, gave my uncle Miraz an heir. Now I am merely in the way, and he wants me dead."

The four were listening with rapt attention, and Queen Lucy placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. Caspian drew a deep breath, his resolve firming. "What my uncle did, what he is doing, is wrong. I do not know all of what happened when my ancestors came, but if any Old Narnians are left, I do not want them forced to live in hiding. My tutor, Doctor Cornelius, gave me Queen Susan's Horn as I fled my uncle's castle. I blew it as I fled from the soldiers sent to chase and kill me. Now I ask for your help in setting Narnia to rights. I cannot do it alone. Even if I can find any surviving Old Narnians, they are unlikely to listen to a Telmarine Prince, if they do not kill me on sight. But they will listen to their Kings and Queens of Old, so I need your help if I am to be able to restore Narnia. Will you aid me?"

The four siblings exchanged glances. King Edmund was the first to speak. "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen."

High King Peter nodded. "We have a duty to Narnia as well. We will help you." He cast a glance at the darkening sky. "It had better wait until morning, though. No use setting out on a quest to save Narnia in the dark and without a proper plan."

Queen Lucy laughed, and Caspian felt himself starting to hope that everything would be all right, after all. Wiggling to find the most comfortable position (or at least one that didn't have small boulder digging into him) Caspian settled down for the night, letting his mind fill with dreams of a better Narnia.

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A/N: So, the next chapter is up. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first, and I hope the next chapter won't take so long. I'm in the middle of moving and my exams are coming up, though, so no promises.

This is my fourth Narnia fic, but my first Prince Caspian based one. The others are a poem, 'Kings and Queens of Narnia', a Susan-based one-shot, 'Remember', and a chaptered fic from the White Witch's point of view.
Anyway, constructive criticism is welcome, flames are laughed at, and all opinions are very much appreciated.

Thanks, Nat