Chapter 3

Hi the POV from now on will be 3rd person, apart from the flashbacks which will be 1st person. I don't really know what I'm doing but I enjoy writing sooo anyway comment if you want, or don't I don't mind :) Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: No I still don't own Narnia :( darn!

She needed a drink. The arid dry heat of the day was beginning to become unbearable in the cramped carriage Ellen was travelling in, she hadn't had any water since they had begun their journey, her throat was parched and she was absentmindedly smacking her lips together dreaming of cool streams and icy lakes. The hazy light made it difficult to see the trees as they streaked past, and the jolting of the carriage was starting to make Ellen feel ill, although it wasn't only that, there was something far worse heading her way and it sent her stomach rolling.

An invitation to a ball had been sent out in order to gather all the most respectable and wealthy princesses and lady's and place them in one room, the Lords of Telmar hoped that the king would finally choose a bride, and what better way to do that than put all the women in a line and make him choose. This opened up an opportunity for Nicholas and Richard Belmonte because they were bored of their sister and wanted rid of her, they had no hopes of getting the king interested in her but they were certain they could find a tyrant suitable for Ellen, such a man that could make her beg for mercy as they had done.

There was no place better to find a husband than at a ball held in the palace because wealthy lords would be looking for a wife, and the king could not have all the women. So on the 13th of June Ellen found herself on her way to be sold off, except she was a lot less heavy hearted than you would expect, because despite her nerves this was an opportunity for her to find a husband, if she could just meet one agreeable enough she might just have a chance to escape her torturous life. Still, it wouldn't hurt for her to have one drop of water.

She cautiously glanced across at her brothers, and sighed, it was safe they were asleep, she relaxed down into her, albeit uncomfortable, seat her back pressed up to the warm wood and her head against the window frame willing the journey to go faster. For a few minutes everything was calm, her breathing slowed and she drifted into the imaginary, soon she was asleep and dreaming.

But her dreams were not kind to her, she found herself in the middle of a lake on a boat and she needed water, naturally she leant over the side to scoop up some to drink, but she could not get it to stay in her hand, no matter how hard she tried the water never reached her lips. Then the boat was over turned and she was drowning but she still couldn't get any water in her mouth, she was thrashing around desperately trying to get to the surface but she could no longer swim as cold dead hands were pulling her down further until.

She pushed away from the edge of the carriage grabbing on to the window frame, chest heaving as she tried to get her bearings, her entire body pulled taut and shaking. After a few moments, her confusion lifted, she slumped down and rested her forehead on her knees, breathing deeply through her nose. It was just a dream Ellen meticulously repeated this to herself until she felt somewhat normal again. She sat up, intending to just relax, definitely not sleep, for the rest of the journey, but something caught her eye. It was Nicholas' water skin; it was sat beside him so innocently and temptingly inviting her over. Ellen dismissed the idea and decided to turn away and close her eyes. She did not move.

It wasn't wrong for her to want just a drop of water, was it? Her mind protested, but her body had already dragged her up and was one step away from taking it. Slowly she reached out towards the water skin, hand outstretched she carefully took hold of the edge when a hand grabbed hold of her own a ripped it from the precious life line. If Ellen had been thinking straight she would have checked whether Nicholas was actually asleep, but she hadn't and now she was staring into his black eyes and wishing she were in hell. His eyes were blazing with acrimony but his lips were curled into a smirk.

'Well, well, well' he had stood and had clamped her wrists in his vice like grip, his face inches from hers.

'What do we have here?' he gradually advanced, forcing her to stumble backwards until the back of her knees hit the bench she was sat on. Sharply he threw her back, and she landed with a crack against the wall. Deliberately he settled his hands either side of her head and brought his face in so his lips were almost touching her ear and whispered,

'Thief'

She shivered as his breath ghosted over her skin, the claws of panic beginning to suffocate her, abruptly he stepped back. He sneered taking in her wide eyes and trembling hands, she deserved it. He sat once more, cocking his head to the side as he regarded Ellen. Suddenly his mood shifted, he put on the most angelic face he could and spoke in a way that would have most people entranced.

'Get some sleep, dearest sister, we are almost there'

She wasn't thirsty anymore.

On the morning of the ball, the palace was buzzing with excitement, the maids and cooks and footman and butlers were practically riotous, running in every direction crying out for more flour and more sheets, who last saw the brush, and who took my damn iron? The atmosphere was tense but it held a certain amount of thrill at the coming ball that threatened to take over, and because of this the king had run. He had run to the palace gardens, to the only place where no one was trying to put him in stiff clothes or ask for his signature on an important piece of paper that must be signed immediately sire!

In his hiding place no one was judging him and he could almost imagine he was just a regular man, almost. Surrounding the royal gardens was an old but sturdy wall with ivy climbing all over it and in the bottom right hand corner there was a door. However to find the door you'd have to push away mountains of weeds and flowers to get there. The only way Caspian knew it was there was because at the age of 6 his father took him and let him 'discover' the hidden door before sitting him down on the rusted bench and telling him why it was there.

Holding away the debris, he leaned against the door, opening it as it groaned its protests, and after stepping through he made sure to rearrange the foliage and close the door, he didn't want anyone to stumble upon the secret he had kept so well. Caspian smiled as he took in the small familiar walled garden, and took a deep breath inhaling the scent of the wild flowers.

He sat down heavily on that same rusting bench and he groaned, today was the day. It wasn't that he didn't want a wife, in the future, but he didn't feel ready, at 24 he had already reigned for 5 years, yet he still felt overwhelmed with his position, he doubted his decisions were wise and discerning like his fathers.

King Caspian IV had never seemed to waver in his verdict he was in control and sure of himself. Even though Caspian could mirror his father's look of authority he never felt that sense of security his father enjoyed. One the one hand a wife could help ease his burden, but on the other she could realise his vulnerability and let it slip that their king is weak, leading to rebellion maybe even war. No, that could not be allowed to happen, if nothing else he must find a women who is astute and principled, whether he hate her or not. This marriage is not for him, it's for the good of the kingdom. He exhaled sharply, irritated by where his train of thought was leading him.

Caspian swung his legs up onto the bench and lay down, his hands behind his head, the bench was just about long enough if he drew his knees up and, he was able to rest there for a while until the shadows grew longer and he knew he had to return. Grudgingly he got up off the bench and made his way out of his alcove; and with one last look back he shut the door. Walking in the main garden was peaceful enough and certainly better than inside the castle, but in Caspian's view there was something to be said for the overgrown wildness of nature that is just so much more enticing than the clean cut hedges and purposeful rows of flowers. He offered a few smiles to gardeners as he went by, enjoying the fact that there were people around him that weren't fussing over him, apart from the occasional dangerously low bow.

Entering his chambers he walked over to the bathroom and peered inside, sure enough there was a steaming bath waiting for him, he rolled his eyes, it's like they think I'm an animal. He then lifted up his arm, sniffed then hastily put it back down. Alright, maybe I am. He went in, shut the door to the bathroom and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his tanned muscular frame sculpted from years of training. He also bore scars from battles unfortunately not that long ago; however he was not ashamed of them and wore them with pride. After stripping he got into the bath and sank down, so the water was just touching his chin, he felt the stress of the day melt away as his muscles were soothed by the hot water. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Thank you for reading! I don't mind constructive criticism by the way :)