14. The Feast, Part I

"May I join you?"

Susan raised her gaze from the book she'd been consumed in and took pause as she saw the Telmarine king stand a few paces away from her seat.

The young woman had been certain she'd found herself a little hideaway in one of the corners of the royal library behind book shelves and words of wonder, but clearly that was not the case. The young man, however, seemed quite stoic as he kept his distance and held his hands behind his back while maintaining a regal posture, as if he hadn't intended on finding her there either. He seemed quite uncomfortable with his find, but noble and kind enough to not simply walk away without first breaking word. After the past few days, Susan wondered at his kindness towards her.

Her heart could not endure to cause him more pain, and meekly she nodded, "... Yes. Yes, of course, your highness."

With a timid smile that seemed to echo with gratitude of not being turned away, the man sat down opposite the queen in the bay window among the pillows she'd gathered there. As soon as he was comfortable, Caspian leaned back against the wall and gazed outside at the beach far, far below. When he remained silent, Susan turned back to her book but found that the written words suddenly blended into a messy blur of ink with neither purpose nor meaning.

The young woman traced a hand through her long braid as she inconspicuously let her glance wander back up to the handsome man in front of her. He was rubbing his left shoulder through the brown jerkin he wore, though his mind seemed miles away as he did.

"Does it still hurt?"

Caspian swiftly turned his attention back to her with a confused, "Hmm?" His own gaze traveled down to his shoulder and he lowered his hand at once. Susan couldn't quite read his mind as he shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"Do you want me to send for Lucy's cordial?" the brunette's voice filled with worry of the intensest kind as she allowed herself to see how the man struggled with some mind matter or another. The brown-haired man raised his chin then and as his eyes met hers, Susan wanted nothing more than to lean closer and offer him some measure of peace. She wanted to reassure him of everything; his safety, the well-being of his people and, perhaps most of all, her feelings for him. But she uttered not a syllable.

The bearded king cleared his throat and lowered his gaze with an almost apologetic shrug. The pain she'd caused him with her rejection was plainly evident in the way he carried himself, though he spoke not a word about it. He didn't seem as broken as he had been that day, but there was evidently something in him that desperately wanted to know more about what had happened.

"I don't know why I did it. I'm completely healed, but I suppose the memory of that day is still so fresh. It's barely been a week. Perhaps touching the spot where I was injured reminds me of my good fortune. You need not worry about me, my queen."

"I fear some things are easier said than done," Susan breathed before she could stop herself. She saw the man's eyes widen in recognition of her sentence and at once, she re-focused on the book in her hand. Flickering through the pages, she hoped he would not see the true meaning to her words. For a few seconds there was silence around them except for the pages softly caressing each other with every move of her hand.

"How are the preparations for the banquet faring?" the young man asked at length. His voice seemed strained like a newly strung violin, as if the silence had threatened to catch him in a dark spot.

"Well, I think," Susan nodded, a tad too vigorously, as her gaze once more rose to meet his dark, passionate orbs. "Lord Greagoir and I have sorted all the main issues, with our DLF's helping hand. Though the feast isn't until the day after tomorrow, many of the guests have already started to arrive, as you must be aware... From Archenland, Calormen, the forests... Even from beyond the Eastern Sea. Lord Greagoir and I am to meet the royal chef to prepare the last details for the menu later tonight. All according to plan."

When the young woman's long monologue eventually died out, Caspian nodded distantly. The brunette was sure he hadn't heard a word she'd been saying as she noticed the slight wrinkle between his strong eyebrows, and she ducked to cover a smile. As she looked down, she noticed how close their feet were on the pillows between them. Almost touching over the abyss, though too far away to actually remove the distance between them. Somehow, the notion saddened her.

"Lord Greagoir tells me... that the council has three preferred choices among the gracious ladies who will attend the feast. All three of them would apparently make excellent queens," the king sighed and rested his head against the wall behind him. "I sometimes believe the old lord is more excited about this than I am."

"Are you...? Excited, I mean?" Susan managed meekly. As the man opened his mouth to reply, the woman interrupted before he could utter a word. "Forgive me, that was out of line. I know that of the council's... options two have arrived already, and I have met them both. They're beautiful, my lord. They'd make any man happy with their warmth and kindness. Peter and Edmund have shown interest, too."

"Then let them marry the ladies!" the king breathed only loud enough for the young woman to overhear. He closed his eyes tight and sighed. "... Now I was out of line, as you put it. To give Narnia a worthy queen to my reign, it is an honor... It is nothing short of what Narnia deserves."

"And you, Caspian," the young queen assured. "Never forget that. You know I desire nothing more than for you to find a wife and be happy for the rest of your life."

"Yes, I know," the man nodded and his eyes held hers firmly as the passion slowly weakened from strongest flame to palest ember. "Your gentle heart overwhelms this simple man... If I am to be married, however, it is best I get to know these ladies, is it not? I suppose I have stalled long enough. Thank you for your support, your highness. I must take my leave, for there are guests to greet and befriend."

Without further ado, the king flew up from his seated position with the agility of a house cat and bowed his head before the queen. As soon as he was done, he turned on his heel and walked away from the Pevensie girl's hideout. Susan followed his tall, lean figure until it was out of sight and released a shaky breath at last.

Susan raised her book once more, but she found that her mind would not allow her to return to the world described on the pages of the book.

The day of the feast arrived swiftly and with it, the cheer and merriment of Cair Paravel rose to new heights. The arrival of all the interesting people intrigued the citizens and all over town and in the palace new acquaintances were made between friends of new. For the citizens, who would not attend the feast itself, barrels of wine and fine food were handed out, a gesture that most honored guests saw as a warm offering and many spoke of the kindness of King Caspian X.

As the sun set beyond the mountain top in the distance, the palace was lit up with warm lights and the feast began. People from far and wide, forest creatures and other creatures, stood in awe of the beautifully decorated palace. Susan and Greagoir, who had planned it all, had chosen to decorate the palace in purest gold and white as well as beautiful flowers that spread a sweet, lovely scent in the evening air.

Upon one of the walls in the grand hall itself hung a large golden standard with Aslan's embroidered head upon it. There could be no mistake that this was a feast for the mighty lion, as much as it was for the Telmarine king.

By the king's request, the fauns had agreed to play their enchanting music and dance to it, professing their great honor of doing so. The tunes were merry and mysterious, like the deep woods from whence they had been invented. Every tune had its own story and if you listened closely you could hear the stories of trees, of the dancing stream or even of the mysterious fauns themselves carried across the tunes.

Susan and Peter stood to the side as they beheld the spectacle dance of the fauns with great admiration. The young woman wore a red and gold dress, its design reminded her of the gown she'd worn to the king's coronation during their last visit. She wore her hair out for the evening, but with a daffodil behind one ear which the fauns had offered to her earlier during the evening. Her elder brother wore a brown, silk shirt with wide sleeves and golden embroideries as well as tight, black pants.

Peter let his gaze travel around the large hall and on the other end; he saw Caspian and a fair young woman talking and laughing together. He glanced down at his fair sister and decided not to share what he'd seen with her. This was the first time he recognized his beloved sister since their return to Narnia, and he hoped it had something to do with his confrontation only a week ago. He much preferred her like this, without a brooding desire to go back to England.

The eldest Pevensie gazed up as one of the fauns gracefully danced over to the two siblings, singing a beautiful chorus from their Golden age. Though it seemed long ago, the young man remembered the lyrics as if he'd heard them yesterday. The faun was clearly attempting to get both of them to join in the chorus. Glancing sideways, however, Peter realized his sister did not recognize the lyrics as he did. The faun, too, seemed to realize this, and a hint of surprise and shame spread in his eyes, and was in turn reflected in Susan's.

In that second, Edmund stepped out from the crowd behind them, singing along with the chorus loudly (and quite out of tune). His enthusiasm rekindled the joy in the faun's eyes and with grace it returned to its kin to complete the dance. The younger Pevensie, dressed in different nuances of grey and green, stepped up to his sister's side and Peter noticed how the young man squeezed his sister's hand in support.

Caspian smiled down at the ethereally fair woman beside him. She had been introduced to him as Lilliandil, Ramandu's daughter, by Lord Greagoir, who'd seemed most keen to introduce her in the first place. The Telmarine could not blame his lord. Lilliandil was fair beyond compare and, indeed, stood not a human either. She was a daughter to a star and lived on Ramandu's Island far away on the Eastern Ocean. When the king had learned this, he had briefly wondered if he would have met her sooner, had he not abandoned his quest for the seven lords.

The woman was dressed in white and seemed almost to shine like a beacon in the soft evening glow with her long, blonde locks hanging loose around her slender, tall form. Though for all her otherworldly beauty, her eyes were still sharp and clever.

Caspian could not deny that he was intrigued by this woman and found her company pleasant. He mentally reminded himself to thank Lord Greagoir's research for appropriate 'options'. So far, all three of the chosen women had proven fair and intelligent, strong yet kind. Obviously, all three of them could one day rule any land with a firm and noble heart. Out of the three, Lilliandil was proving to be a favorite for the king, though he could not help but wonder if it truly was enough to change his heart's desire from its true goal.

"May I ask..." Ramandu's daughter began with a timid smile as she gazed about her in the grand hall to all the people around them. "... what is life like here in your land?"

"I assure you, it is a good life," the Telmarine man grinned as a servant offered them wine. The man took the glasses in is tanned hands and offered one to the woman, but she declined the offer.

"Forgive me, I should not," she explained. Caspian bowed his head and handed the glass back to the servant who soon disappeared in the crowd. As the brown-haired king turned his attention back to the lady, she said, "And the life of your guests?"

The man frowned. "Guests?"

"I speak of the Kings and Queens of Old," Lilliandil clarified in her soft voice. "We have heard word even to my father's island of their return. Is it not hard for them to be here, knowing that they will be called back to their home one day? My father says they cannot stay this time either."

Caspian hesitated as the words settled in his mind and this time he could not shake the meaning of it, despite his best attempts. "Yes... I suppose it is hard."

Lucy felt her heart race inside her chest as she descended the giant staircase leading towards the grand feast. She was 'fashionably late', as her mother would have called it. It was deliberate, too, mind you. Ever since the Erinyes, Lucy had done some soul searching in private. The creature in the woods had accused the young girl of being the weakest and smallest sibling as well as the ugliest sister. She had since that encounter realized the only way for a change to be made, was if she took matters into her own hands. She had to grow up if she was to be taken seriously, and not be considered the youngest and silliest sister anymore.

"I am not sure," Reepicheep called from her side where the mouse scurried along to keep pace with the young queen, "if this is such a wise idea, my queen."

"Oh, don't worry, Reep," Lucy laughed.

"May I remind you, Queen Lucy, that it is you who should not have to worry. This evening I shall keep a special watch on you to ensure your safety. With all these people, it is possible the threat is greater still."

The queen rolled her eyes. "All invited are friends of Narnia. I repeat myself, Reepicheep, do not worry! This will be a night to remember!"

With those words she reached the entrance to the grand hall, inhaled deeply and stepped through the large, open door post. Immediately, she noticed a shift in the air around her. People who noticed her, stopped speaking for a second, gobsmacked at her appeareance. Lucy couldn't help but smile to herself. By her feet, she heard Reepicheep sigh and mutter something nasty.

Lucy was dressed in a mature dress, well beyond her years according to the Narnian style. It was a bright pink dress with a low, scooping neckline that showed some amount of bossom. The dress itself clung close to her small frame and was all in all a far cry from her usual tomboyish style. Her hair was curled and done up in a fancy style, though a few curls hung down to frame her face. For once, too, Lucy wore make up and felt just as pretty as her sister.

A rough hand suddenly gripped her elbow and the girl spun around to face Peter. The look in her elder brother's eyes was anything but pleased.

"What are you wearing?" he hissed low so that no one else could hear them.

"This? Oh, it's just an old rag I found in the closet…" Lucy smiled.

"Is that… lipstick? Do they even have that in Narnia?" Peter asked with a confounded frown and then sniffed the air. "And perfume?"

"So?"

"So?" the elder brother mimicked and his tone was a mix of complete surprise and appall. Before he could continue, Edmund appeared beside them.

"I see you finally joined the feast, Lu. And what an entrance…" the dark-haired boy looked her up and down, he, too, not with the most approving of eyes. "What are you wearing, sis? Don't you think that's… too bold for you?"

"No, I don't," Lucy hissed and looked down at Reepicheep who stood silently by her feet. The look in his eyes spoke of his own thoughts on the matter and how they matched her brothers. Appalled to have no support, the girl breathed, "I think I look pretty in it."

"You look under-dressed! It is not appropriate!" Peter hissed with fatherly disdain as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Go up and change! Put on something more appropriate for your age!"

"This is appropriate!" the young brunette felt anger rise in her chest, swiftly replacing her previous excitement. She had come down to enjoy this feast, emerging as a young woman instead of a silly, little girl, but her brothers still wouldn't allow her that joy. "I'm not little Lucy anymore! When will you realize that?!"

"Yes, you are! You are very little and very young!" her eldest sibling contended. "At least you're not old enough to wear that, you're embarrassing yourself. I said, go change!"

"You're not mum and dad, Peter!" the girl's voice hitched. "You don't get to tell me what to do! Remember, I was once a Queen of Narnia, an adult just as you two and Susan! I'm not little Lucy!"

Lucy turned on her heels and ran out of the room without further ado. Reepicheep bowed to the two kings before hurrying after the young queen. Her tear -filled exit had many heads turning and mumbling echoed across the hall. In her wake, Peter and Edmund stood in silence side by side.

The dark-haired boy slowly turned to his elder sibling, the latter who seemed still to be fuming. Peter, upon feeling Edmund's gaze on him, glared down at himr.

"I don't care what she says, Ed, she is my younger sister. I'll always be protective of her."

"It was just a dress, Peter," the younger said with a shrug. "I admit, not much of a dress, but still… You didn't have to be so rough on her. It's Lucy, you know… and whether you or I or Susan want it… She's growing up..." the boy paused as he gazed into his wine cup. "Look, I never told you this before… But when I found Lucy after she followed the Erinye in the woods, she… It seemed the creature had fed on her fear of being the youngest and smallest. I'm just saying it might be a delicate matter for her, and we could be more sensitive."

The elder boy pondered his brother's long speech and finally let out a deep sigh. "Since when are you so bright, Edmund?"

The boy's pale eyes twinkled. "I've always been bright, Peter. I've just played dumb to match your level."

"Oh, har har! I'll get you for that, you know."

"Threatening my intellect with physical injury? Yeah, that's mature..."

"I'm serious, Edmund."

"I'm shaking in my boots!"

"Boys, boys, boys…" The two of them turned around as Susan joined them. She shook her head as if to admonish their childish argument. "Wherever did you scare Lucy off to, Peter?"

"I didn't… She…" the man sighed. "I should go apologize."

"Give her some time," the brunette smiled gently and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Not tonight. Tomorrow."

"Hey, there's Caspian, he's- Woah!" Edmund breathed distracted by something behind his sister as his mind wandered across the crowd. "Peter! Have you seen the woman he's talking to?"

Peter sensed Susan's hand stiffen where it rested against his shoulder and he placed his own hand above hers and squeezed it brotherly. Edmund noticed the gesture and his face fell.

"I'm sorry, Su... Is she... you know?"

The young woman nodded. "... She is."

"Well, now that I look at her, she's not actually very much to look at," the youngest brother retracted with a shrug as his eyes glanced down at his sister apologetically. "Quite ugly, really. ... I think I ought to save Caspian from that troll."

With those words, the dark-haired boy swiftly made his exit and the eldest Pevensie watched as he made his way over to the king and the beautiful woman who hadn't left Caspian's side for quite some time.

"... He's still talking to her, then?" Susan whispered.

Peter's eyes snapped back to his sister's impassive face. "So you have noticed them?"

The woman smiled as she turned around to watch the couple at the other end of the hall. "Lord Greagoir introduced earlier. I think he wanted my approval before he introduced her to Caspian. She's a star's daughter, you know. Quite wonderful."

"Hey, Su...?" her brother wet his lips as he searched for the right words. "When Ed asked about her... what did you mean by 'she is'?"

"She's his future wife. I know it. I recognized her face... I'm happy for him. I think we can both move on now. Look to the future."

"Are you trying to convince me of that... or yourself?" Peter warily eyed his sister as he saw her brooding return to her heart and the joy diminish with every second. He opened his mouth to continue, but was abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of a stranger who walked up and bowed before them.

The stranger was a tall, young man of Peter's age with tanned skin, long hair and black eyes that shone with mystery and compassion. The man was rather handsome with a long, narrow nose and long eyelashes. His posture and behavior spoke of royalty and pride. The mysterious man was dressed in flowing robes the color of darkest red wine. Susan caught the briefest flash of a thin, golden band around his arm as he moved.

The stranger stood tall and his full attention remained on the Gentle Queen, who watched him with mild intrigue in return.

"Queen Susan?" the man asked and his wide, brown eyes searched hers with a kind warmth in their own. When she nodded, he reached for her hand and raised it to his full lips. "May I introduce myself to such a fair, gentle lady, though a late hour it is?"

"Oh," she said in her surprise and glanced briefly at Peter who looked even more curious than she felt. As the man's lips graced the back of her hand, she nodded. "Yes, of course."

"I am prince Anash, son of Goraidh, the ruler of Calormen. I have come to seek your hand in marriage."

To be continued.