So i just wanted to say thank you, to my one reviewer so far :) and to the few people who have put an alert out for this story. I'm not expecting much feedback on this one since i know the category (unfortunately) isn't all that popular. To those who do review however, thank you so so much. This story is for all of you. I hope you all enjoy it :D

xoxox

Becca


Chapter Two: Prince Caspian.

He was a boy. Susan's heart sank in disappointment at the sight of the wannabe king before her. She didn't have time for boys, especially not ones who wanted to be king but could barely even handle a sword. He was barely older than Peter for Aslan's sake. And a Telmarine! Since when did those barbarians have any right to her throne? It wasn't Narnian; Narnia would never suffer a foreign king, especially not one so weak as this: a mere throwback from the ancient Calormenes. They chose their rulers from amongst their own. Not from the savages who had taken over the land and tried to possess it. Had Narnia truly fallen so far since their departure?

It was with a feeling of distain that Susan pushed her way from the makeshift campsite the new arrivals had set up as she fled into the woods surrounding them. They had intended to go and find Narnia's only hope, preparing to walk the length and breadth of Narnia if they had to, to put the rightful king on their old throne. They didn't even have to leave the campsite. Trumpkin had spent the night in the forest, seeking out others of his kind and passing messages of their location by way of Reepcheep's (the tiny rat) talking cousins. By the time dawn broke, the entire populace of true Narnians knew of their return, and their current position.

Glenstorm (the centaur and a direct descendant of general Orius) and Reepcheep were the first to arrive at the camp, Caspian's ambassadors as it were. Lucy had happily received them, gushing over the cuteness of the little creature and curtseying respectfully to the centaur. Susan was glad she hadn't lost all of her Narnian upbringing at least. She truly didn't understand how Lucy wasn't more affected by the constant changes as she herself was. Her little sister seemed to jump between the worlds as carefree as a water sprite between rivers and lakes. She didn't seem to understand how wrong it was that on a whim they could be ripped from their lives and thrown across universes. She danced between them and slipped into the two roles as though it was a normal, everyday occurrence. Sometimes Susan despaired of her, and sometimes she envied her. Oh, to be as carefree as Lucy, so whimsical and ridiculously charming that no one could ever be angry at her. Even when she forgot herself entirely and claimed a knight was Narnia was "soooo cute!" showing that despite their lives in Narnia and growing up as royalty; the English child in her still remained. Susan truly didn't understand how she did it sometimes, but she had put it to the back of her mind as she stepped forward to greet their guests, forcing a welcoming and diplomatic smile onto her face as she did so.

Now though, she couldn't handle anymore. She needed to get away, needed to breathe. It was too much, far, far too much to handle in one day. She was barely holding onto her sanity just from being back in the country where she had spent the best days of her life, where every step she took across Narnian soil awoke another memory of their old life: their coronation, their wedding day, the day the physician told her she was pregnant with Narnia's heir, Peter's amazement and her own delirious joy at the news...

Having all of Narnia's creatures around her again, the creatures she used to call friends, the creatures she had imagined her baby growing up around and playing with. It was all too much. And then, to have that child Caspian, claim to be the rightful king! It was laughable: painfully, hysterically, laughable. No one belonged on the Narnian throne but a Narnian. Her child should have been the next ruler of her once beloved country, and their children's children after that. The Narnian throne was never meant to sit empty; not when the rightful heir could so easily have been placed upon it. A Telmarine was never supposed to rule Narnia, especially not that Telmarine.

As she raced further and further into the forest, Susan could hear the wind howling in her ears as it swept through the trees. To her it sounded like the shriek of a newborn being ripped from its mother's arms. Her frantic pace was abruptly cut as she crumpled to her knees beside a small pool of water. The force of her sobs shook her entire body as memories assaulted her. The wind still sounded in her ears and with every shriek, her sobs increased until she could barely stay upright; curling into herself instead and clutching her now empty womb as she rocked backwards and forwards at the pools edge.

As her tears continued to fall thick and fast, one of the small glistening drops hit the pool beside her with a quiet splash. The pool rippled once before the surface shimmered and a woman's face appeared: ridges of pale green scales rose along her cheekbones and brow; her lips were thin and chapped, tinged almost blue with the cold of the water. Her hair flowed around her head, snarled and wild; strands of kelp were threaded through it- making her look fierce and cruel. But her eyes were kind- a deep, depthless violet as they looked with pity upon the broken Queen sitting weeping at her poolside.