Chapter Text
It wasn’t often that the clouds above Cair Paravel turned dark.
Even in the rainy seasons, the floating shapes remained fluffy and white, as the falling water seemed an almost gentle drumbeat filling the fall with autumnal ambiance.
When I woke that morning, I had to blink hard to ensure I hadn’t lost my sense of sight altogether. The bedroom was dimly lit, a dull shade of greyness cast over the normally vibrant golds and yellows of the High King’s quarters. Though the curtains were drawn back, little light seemed to penetrate through the windows.
How odd.
I pushed it from my mind, memories of another place, another world, of grayness fighting its way to my brain. It mattered not. A shadow was not to ruin my mood nor my day.
It was rare for a white stag to be spotted in our parts. They were an omen, always described as a symbol of something new. We had made plans for our expedition last night. Edmond was the first to raise the idea, to which Peter quickly agreed. Lucy and I, never ones to be left out, agreed to join as well. Susan was least enthusiastic; she was never the type to enjoy a hunt, but eventually nodded, stating that the fresh air would do her good.
I cast my trousers a longing look on the left side of my drawer as I reached instead for one of my less restrictive dresses. I’d convinced myself that I didn’t mind all the new rules and expectations that came with being a Queen, but I was a skilled liar, even to myself.
Distracted by my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the other being in the room rise and join me near the chest of drawers. I jumped, whirling around as I felt two hands appear on my waist.
“Christ!” Peter chuckled, ducking out of the way of my instinctual shove even in his tired state. “I would have thought you would be used to our cohabitation by now.”
“Well, I would have thought you would know not to sneak up on a trained soldier by now.” I countered. “You’re lucky I didn’t have a sword.”
“Believe me, I am aware.” Peter hummed, putting his hands on my waist once more and pulling me close to his chest. He closed his eyes, resting his chin on my shoulder as he breathed slowly. He did this most mornings. Told me he needed the contact to wake him up, and I enjoyed the embrace too much to tell him how ridiculous that sounded.
“We should get ready.” I spoke eventually, my voice muffled by his chest.
“Just a moment longer.” His eyes remained closed.
“We’ll be late to meet the others.”
“I don’t care. I just want to hold you while I can.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” It was my turn to laugh at the absurdity. “You can hold me hostage against you every day this week if you like. We’ve got nothing planned but that ball in Archenland on Wednesday.”
It was his silence that bothered me. Peter was not one to still his tongue.
“Right?” I asked, turning my head to look up at him.
Peter cursed, pulling back to run a hand through his hair. “I forgot about the ball. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been complaining about it for weeks.” I said, eyeing him cautiously. “The Duke’s wife is terribly rude, and the Duke himself has never acted in an appropriate manner.”
“I agreed to a diplomatic meeting with the Lord of the Seven Isles next week. Our ship is set to depart tomorrow and not return for 10 days’ time.”
“You’re not going to the ball.”
“You can go without me. As queen, you’re authorized to be a representative for the palace.” Peter replied. He gave me a look that was more sheepish than apologetic as he went over to his wardrobe and began pulling out his clothes for the hunt.
Clearly, he’d misjudged my reaction.
“I am well aware I am able to act as a diplomatic representative,” I said, following him across the room and crossing my arms.
“I didn’t say you weren’t.” His voice was muffled as he pulled his loose white undershirt over his head before he turned to open another drawer to get his top layer, but I reached out and pushed it closed, finally making him look back at me again. “What?”
“You’re not going to apologize?” I kept one hand on the drawer, the other on my hip.
“I did.” He too looked annoyed now. “I said I’m sorry. It wasn’t like I planned the trip to get out of the ball. I just forgot, okay. It’s not worth having a row over.”
“Oh, it’s not?” I asked, my face turning slightly red. “Since when are you the decider of what’s worthy of a row? Is that one of your royal duties, huh?”
Peter rolled his eyes, sighing my name with exasperation. “What would you like me to do? We barely have a relationship with the Lord of the Isles. If I were to cancel, it would undermine all the progress we’ve been making. Narnia has been at peace for ten years now. Do you really want me to jeopardize that just so you don’t have to make small talk with some people that annoy you?”
“Obviously, that is not what I want.” I was not proud to admit I raised my voice, but in the heat of the moment, it felt like the only way to be heard.
Fights like this were not uncommon for my husband and me. We were both strong willed and short tempered. That was one of the reasons we were such a perfect fit. We had both finally met our match. But that didn’t mean things were easy.
“Then what exactly would you like me to do about it?” The man asked, side-stepping me and grabbing a pair of trousers from yesterday that were still lying across the armchair in the corner.
“I would have liked my husband not to forget about me. It would probably take you weeks to notice if I up and disappeared.” And while that wasn’t true, I felt a small victory in the way his eyes widened.
“Now you know that isn’t true.” He was fully dressed now, compared to me, still clad only in my nightgown. “And I do apologize for forgetting. I know you were not looking forward to the ball. I should have remembered.”
“Yes, you should have.” My tone was a bit too harsh, considering he’d apologized, but my mood had been soured.
“I will see if Ed or Susan can accompany you so you do not have to go alone.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know.” His eyes looked defeated, like he knew he’d been wrong. “I’ll make it up to you, alright?”
“Okay.” I nodded, not giving him the satisfaction of a full response. He stepped closer as if to kiss my cheek, but I turned away, grabbing my robe from where it hung on a hook and wrapping it around myself. I stepped into my slippers and made my way to the door without looking back.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” Peter asked, watching me retreat.
“I don’t wish to hunt anymore.” I replied, anger flaring in me again as I heard his exasperated sigh. The one that meant he thought I was being unreasonable.
“Fine. Whatever.” I could practically see him shake his head. “I’ll see when we return. I love you.” His tone was still annoyed, but it didn’t make the words any less true.
“Love you too.” I shot back, equally as harsh and equally as true.
I think if I knew that was the last time I’d see my husband, I would have played things out differently.
Sure, I was annoyed at him for forgetting about me, but he had apologized. Yes, we fought, but we were both fighters. We were both stubborn. The only thing that ever made either of us waver in our resolve was our love for each other.
I found myself in the library most of the day, reading some book that was about as old as the universe itself, yet not half as interesting.
I expected Peter to come find me after he returned. I would be ready to apologize, though he never let me. He would take responsibility after every fight, even the ones I admit may have been no fault but my own. He refused to let met utter an apology. He usually brought me a flower; irises were my favorite. Even if I wanted to be mad, there was something so strong about my love for him that I couldn’t physically maintain a state of anger. It would disappear the moment he did that little bow of chivalry upon entering the room.
But Peter never came home that day.
None of them did.
I waited hours in the library, listening as the dark clouds began to bring dark rain. It wasn’t gentle but rather a pounding so loud I not only closed the window but drew the curtains to mask the sound. Eventually, one of the maids came and announced that dinner was ready.
The table was set for five, but the only place occupied was my own. I waited there then, expecting my family to come through the door, likely wet and cold with the spirit of adventure keeping them warm. But the doors remained closed.
It was still raining hours later when Oreius came to find me, sitting in front of a now spoiled dinner. I only half listened as he told me of a search party, assuring me that the kings and queens were likely just lost or sheltering somewhere to wait out the storm.
It rained for 40 days straight.
The same dark rain that had never touched the kingdom before. Coastal towns began to flood, citizens were evacuated and taken inland. Farmland turned mushy and spoiled crops. Rivers ran faster and broke down bridges of stone.
I dressed in black, not that it really mattered. My world had lost all its color. I could have been wearing a bright yellow gown, and it would have felt cold.
I didn’t have to go to the ball.
The day it stopped raining, I allowed myself the luxury of hope. Praying to find an iris on my pillow. Pleading with Aslan, wherever he may be, to bring back the people that I loved. The man that I needed like oxygen.
Nothing came of it.
While not permitted in Narnian law, Oreius made many decisions on my behalf. I could not bring myself to leave my room most days. When I finally forced myself to exit the castle to assist with the post-storm remediation efforts, I still didn’t feel right. I nodded and smiled as people offered their condolences for my husband, who was now presumed to be dead. I allowed the crown to be placed on my head and sat on the cold throne by myself, three empty seats to my left.
Despite my state, Narnia remained at peace.
There were attempts at revolution that were quickly put to rest. In fact, the only times I felt alive were when there was a sword in my hand. I’d always been a skilled fighter, learning the art of the sword from the centaurs and perfecting it with training and repetition. People started calling me the Warrior Queen. I wore trousers and a breast plate, finally shredding the dresses and curls, now keeping my hair in one long braid.
For the first time in over a decade, I found myself thinking of another world. A world I had wished to forget. A world that had done nothing but hurt me time and time again. And yet, I longed for it to take me back. Because Earth wouldn’t have the memories. It wouldn’t have the paintings of my friends in the great hall. It wouldn’t have the bed that I used to share with the man I loved. It wouldn’t have the pain like a stab to the chest every time I took a breath.
But I couldn’t leave. Or rather, I wouldn’t.
Stubbornness, remember?
I would die before leaving this place that I loved so deeply. I refused to hate it.
And yet, in the end, it wasn’t my choice to be made.
One night when I couldn’t sleep, which was a common occurrence, I was out in the deserted courtyard practicing various sword forms I’d been taught. Though already muscle memory, I found it satisfying.
Perhaps I should have known better than to do such actions in the dark because one moment I was moving from pivot to jump, the next my foot landed on a rock in the path, causing my ankle to twist and I went tumbling to the ground so quickly I couldn’t even register the pain of my head hitting the ground before the world went black.
When I woke, I was on the floor of a room I recognized like it was a dream as the shadow of the past became my present. I wasn’t dressed in my hand-stitched clothing with the lion’s crest on the right. I was wearing a jumper and a skirt. The clothing of a girl, not a woman. I heard someone shouting for me, my father, who I’d hoped I’d never hear from again.
The window to my right confirmed what I already felt in my gut to be true.
London was just the same as I’d left it fifteen years ago.
---
Now, I’m not exactly sure what Aslan was thinking with this one.
Maybe it was my fault, or maybe fate was just out to get me, but I did not think my triumphant return to Narnia would entail falling from the sky into a pitch-black sea in the middle of the night.
I wasn’t even sure it was Narnia at first; everything was so much darker than I remembered. And not in that grey cloudy way. More like a black and white movie.
And I had only just adapted to my life back in London. I’d gotten used to the simplicity of life as a civilian rather than a monarch. I allowed myself to be treated like a child, no longer a brave warrior but rather a seventeen-year-old girl.
I kept my head down in school. Made good grades. I didn’t have many friends, just a few acquaintances. It was hard to find pleasure in things such as gossip or makeup when I had once led an army of thousands.
I had no interest in boys either. The all-boys school that neighbored my own had no shortage of attractive young men, but none of them caught my eye. None of them had the spark of fire that drew me in like a moth. And even if they did, there was an emptiness that remained in my chest even after the equivalency of over half a decade away from my husband. Still, the feeling was different than it had been in Narnia. I wasn’t sure if the pain had somehow dulled or if I’d just gotten used to it as my new normal.
I had been walking down 3rd ave, wrapped in the maroon overcoat my mother purchased that made me look like the adult she was trying to pass me off as, when a biker came out of nowhere. It would have collided with me fully had my now ill-used reflexes not kicked in, allowing me to jump out of the way just in time.
Out of the way, as it turned out, meant hitting my knee on the edge of the nearby decorative fountain that sprayed up water in fancy patterns, even in the winter months. As I toppled over into the spray, I braced myself for the cold, reaching out my arm to catch myself at the base of the structure among the coins that had been tossed in in the form of a wish.
But the end never came.
I kept my eyes closed tight as I continued to fall, wondering if I’d somehow managed to make it to the top of a building and was, in reality, about to plunge to my death.
When I finally made contact with the water, it wasn’t at the base of a small pool. No. It was icy, choppy, and unforgiving. It instantly saturated my overcoat, the thickness of which began pulling me down with the weight.
My instincts kicked back in, and I quickly shrugged off the coat. I instantly felt lighter, but it did little to solve my other problems, namely the chill and the waves.
A large swell of water sent my head under, salt and liquid filling my mouth. I surfaced and spat it out just as another wave came and repeated the unpleasantness. It was a pitch-black night, impossible to see if there was land nearby.
This had to be some cruel trick. Some stupid idea of a joke. I was brought back to Narnia after all this time, only to be drowned within minutes of my arrival.
I nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all, but quickly closed my mouth as another wave came crashing over me.
It occurred to me then that maybe I wasn’t the only one here. It was naivety or stupid hope that allowed me to wonder if the others from my world were back as well.
Maybe Peter would return.
The thought alone was enough to make me kick my legs harder. I tried to get a better look around for an island, a ship, anything that could give me a chance at life.
Another wave pulled me down, this time just as I’d inhaled to shout for help. The water filled my lungs, turning them into sandbags. Stupidly, I tried to scream, leaving room for more water to join its fellows. I knew the worst thing you could do while drowning was to panic, but if I was going to die, then I think I should be allowed to panic, just a bit.
It was then I felt something encircle me from behind, grabbing my waist and pulling me up.
It seems my battle instincts were better than my swimming ones because I was quick to send an elbow backwards, knocking whatever had tried to grab me. I heard a noise like a groan, but the water was coming up above my head and plunging me into silence.
I managed to open my eyes, hoping to at least catch one glimpse of Narnia before I was to die, but instead, I saw a figure in front of me. At first, I thought they were floating up into the sky, but I quickly realized it was actually I who was sinking down into the dark water. The oxygen loss began to catch up with me as the word began to grow fuzzy, even by underwater standards.
I half thought I was dreaming as the figure suddenly plunged down after me. The closer it got, I was able to make out the shape of a human. A man. He wore one of the loose white long sleeve shirts that knights wore under their armor. My heart skipped a beat, remembering Peter owning shirts such as that, but the face that came before me was not golden and blue. From what I could see, his hair was dark, and his skin was tan. I felt strong arms wrap around me from the front this time as not to catch me off guard.
Even if I wanted to struggle, I did not have the strength. I allowed myself to be pulled close, feeling oddly comforted by the physical security I had not experienced in so many years. I felt one hand remain on my waist while the other came up to my head, practically cradling me as we finally surfaced.
I would like to say that I managed to take a breath and swim to shore. I’d like to say I thanked this stranger right away and didn’t embarrass myself any further.
But the truth is, I just passed out.
---
Waking up was just as violent as being dropped into the ocean.
I woke with a start, expecting to find myself still tossing amongst the waves. I felt something surrounding me, keeping me tucked against an object.
And it was the warmth that pulled me out of it. The realization that I wasn’t feeling the stinging slap of coldness but rather being coated in a silky warmth. I allowed myself to look around, quickly becoming aware that I was not, in fact, in the middle of the sea. I was in a room. In a bed. A very soft and very warm bed.
The room was simple, stone, with minimal decorations. It did not look Narnian at all, most closely mirroring more medieval architecture from my world. The bed was a stark contrast, not in color but in comfort. The mattress was like a cloud, firm enough to support but still gentle enough to pull me in. The sheets were silk, and the comforter filled with feathers. There were extra blankets piled on top, no doubt to ward off the hypothermia. Each was shades of white, beige, and brown.
“Good. You’re awake.”
A gentle voice brought my attention to the fact that I was not alone in the room as I had initially suspected. I quickly sat up, only to immediately be racked with shivers as the blanket slipped away.
“Be still, my child. We do not need you losing all the heat we’ve worked so hard to bring back.” The man sitting to my left was old and small. He didn’t look entirely human, but I’d learned it was impolite to inquire what sort of creature someone was. He had a book in his hand, and a quick scan up and down told me that he would be no threat to me. Even in my state, I could easily overpower someone of his age and height.
“Where am I?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Narnia.” I replied. I cautiously sat up more to let my back rest against the headboard and pulled the blankets further so they remained around me like a cocoon.
The man regarded me for a moment. He seemed to be in a state of functional shock.
“Where in Narnia?” I asked when it became clear he did not have a follow up.
“The Palace.”
“This is not Cair Paravel.” I scoffed. Even from seeing one room that much was clear to me.
“It is not.” His eyes brightened slightly, like I’d passed a test. “This is the castle of his majesty Lord Miraz.”
“Miraz?” That didn’t sound Narnian. “How…Who…”
“I believe the question you are looking for, my queen, is when.”
“When?” I inhaled, before noticing what he’d referred to me as. “You know who I am?”
“I suspected.” He nodded. “It’s not every day that a young woman falls from the sky. Let alone one who perfectly matches the description of one of the Queens of old.”
“Old? But it’s only been a year since I left.”
This time, the old man’s eyes grew sad. They were incredibly expressive, a trait that I typically viewed as a weakness that could be exploited. In him, it just made me feel sad as well.
Before he could answer, we were interrupted by a bang. I turned my head so sharply it hurt, just to see two men enter the room. The first was clad in a suit of armor. He entered and held open the door, clearly a guard of some sort. The second man entered slowly with every air of owning the world.
He was not tall but stood as though he thought he was. He wore dark garments, again, not entirely Narnian looking, more similar to historical garb from earth. At his hip, he wore a sword, which made me scan the room for something I could use as a weapon should things take a turn for the worse.
I didn’t care for the way he was eyeing me. I wrapped the blankets around my torso a bit tighter but stared right back at him, refusing to back down first. To my surprise, his face broke into a smile. Not one that reached his eyes, but an attempt.
“I am pleased to see our guest is recovering.” His voice was low. “I see you have met the Tutor?”
“Tutor?” I asked.
“Doctor Cornelius.” The older man said, nodding to the man I’d been speaking with before. “He teaches my nephew.”
“And you are?” I asked, keeping my guard up.
“Forgive me, my lady.” He bowed his head slightly. “My name is Miraz, Lord Protector of Narnia, but more importantly, I am honored to be your host here in my castle.”
To my left, I sensed the Doctor tense. Something about this felt off; I just wasn’t quite sure yet what it was.
“Then I thank you for your hospitality. And for saving my life.” I replied, keeping my tone polite but cautious. “How exactly did I end up here?”
“My nephew and the Tutor were apparently studying the stars last night,” From Miraz’s tone, I sensed he did not approve of the activity, “when they say you fall from the sky.”
“I see. Then I suppose I should extend my gratitude to you as well.” I turned to the Doctor, surprised to find his eyes trained on the ground, avoiding eye contact with the Lord. Yes, something was definitely odd.
“Am I correct in the assumption that we have the honor of hosting the former queen of Narnia?” Again, his voice sounded odd. Like a really good actor in a play. It was almost natural, but something about the staging was wrong. Not to mention the word “former” felt bitter in my ears.
“That is correct.” I nodded.
“I’ve read the stories of the Kings and Queens of old. Never did I think I would have the honor of meeting one.”
“Please, might I inquire as to what has happened here? How long have I been away?”
Miraz took a few steps forward to lean against the bedpost but chose to continue standing rather than sit in the empty chair to my right. “The Tutor may know better than I, but from my history classes, I believe it’s been 1300 years?”
I blinked. Then swallowed. Then laughed.
Both men seemed taken aback. Perhaps they thought the ocean had muddled my brain as I threw my head back like a crazy person.
“1300 years!” I exclaimed. “Christ, just when I thought the fates couldn’t become any more cruel.”
“I’m sorry Your Majesty. I know this must be very difficult-” the Doctor started, but was cut off.
“We will be honored to make you a new home within our kingdom.” The Lord said.
“And how exactly did your kingdom come to be?” I asked, finally settling down my cries, but still not quite believing my luck.
“We Telmarines discovered this land on one of our many voyages. It was abandoned and desolate. We settled here in Narnia and made it our home. We’ve lived here now for generations.”
Again, I felt the Doctor tense at Miraz’s words.
“And what of the Narnians?” I inquired.
“I’m afraid they were extinct by the time we arrived.” He was looking around the room now, seeming almost bored. I decided I didn’t care for this Miraz man, but given he was king and hadn’t killed me, I mustered up the courage to remain polite.
With unintentional perfect timing, my mouth opened, releasing a yawn.
“We shall leave you to your rest.” Miraz said. I was glad the customs of chivalry had not completely disappeared, as I could use them to my advantage. “If you are feeling better, please join my wife, nephew, and me for dinner this evening.”
Wife. That was a good thing. When I’d been left to rule alone, I had had thousands of offers of courtship and attempts at marriage. All attempts to grab power or diplomatic strategies. A wife meant Miraz did not have such intentions, even if I was not technically the High Queen anymore. And it would be nice to seek the company of a woman.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, my lady.” Miraz said, giving a nod that wasn’t quite a bow. “Come with me, Doctor.” He said, before turning and heading out the door, the guard followed after.
Doctor Cornelius got to his feet as well.
“Thank you again Doctor.” I said, already feeling tiredness pull at my eyes once more. “For saving me.”
“The real thanks belongs to young Prince Caspian. He’s the one who dove into the water to save you.” Cornelius replied. He kept a hand on the top of his chair for balance as he stood.
“I should quite like to thank the Prince.”
“I’m sure you shall meet him soon enough.” The Doctor had a new twinkle behind his eyes, but it disappeared after a moment. “Your Majesty,” he lowered his voice, “do please be careful. I think you will find Narnia a changed place. I wish I could-”
He was cut off again by Miraz calling out his name.
“I shall leave you to rest.” The old man said. “Your Majesty.” The Doctor’s bow was low before he turned and followed the Lord out the door.
I didn’t recognize my tears for what they were immediately. I think the ocean had made me numb to the feeling of water. But as they began to fall faster, I felt sobs bubble up as well.
1300 years.
And it was all gone.
Miraz had said Narnia was an abandoned place. All the Narnians extinct. All the friends I had made. All the people I had known. The peace and prosperity we had built. All of it gone.
And it was my fault.
I thought back to the nights I had lain in bed, grief so overpowering I just wanted it all to end. I wasn’t tough enough. I couldn’t take it. Without Peter, I was nothing. I was no one. I was too weak to save my husband and too weak to save my kingdom.
Sleep was a welcome feeling as it pulled me down into darkness.
---
Within the first minute of stepping out of my living quarters, I was immediately lost.
When I had woken, there had been clothes and essentials set out for me along with a bathing pale. I managed to make myself presentable enough. The dress they gave me was unsurprisingly grey and the fabric felt scratchy against my skin. But it was hand-woven and clearly meant to emulate some status, so I appreciated it, nonetheless. I used the hairbrush and water to fix my hair as best I could. It was still salty with sea water, which, while effectively made it curlier, did make me wish to have a full bath sooner rather than later.
The one item I appreciated above the others was the small vial of perfume. It smelled of lilonias, a Narnian flower that I was pleased to find had not been extinct. We had dozens of them in the gardens of Cair Paravel, and the perfume was enough to transport me home, even for just a few seconds.
Finally feeling a bit more myself, I’d ventured out into the castle to try and find my way to the dining room where I was supposed to meet Miraz and his family for dinner.
While I was typically an adept navigator, I found myself getting more and more confused with every turn. Every wall was the same dull stone, no paintings or decorations to differentiate one corridor from another. Every time I thought I was close to being on the right track, I would turn a corner and immediately be hit with a dead end. I tried asking one or two of the maids and guards for directions, but each time I still ended up back where I’d started.
I was beginning to consider just giving up and trying to find my way back to where I’d come when I turned a corner and ran face-first into a wall.
Well, I thought it was a wall until it reached out to catch me, managing to grab my waist and keep me from falling to the floor. Even in my day, Narnian walls didn’t have arms.
“I beg your pardon miss.” A voice was quick to apologize as the strong hands made sure I was steady, then released me. The figure quickly took a respectful step back, and we locked eyes for the first time.
I recognized him from somewhere, and for some reason, he seemed to recognize me as well. His eyes widened then brightened, almost like he’d been waiting for me.
“Your Majesty! I beg your forgiveness. I should have been paying closer attention to where I was going.” He immediately lowered himself into a deep bow. Not the pathetic nod Miraz had thrown my way, nor the respectful but not completely elegant sign of respect the Doctor had shown me. This was graceful and purposeful. The sort of action that was taught to knights and men of nobility.
Which made me realize how I knew him.
“You’re Prince Caspian?” I asked, suddenly putting two and two together. I remembered the feeling of his touch in the water. The safety I had felt despite the moment of peril. It made me blush to think of our closeness at the time. “Then I fear it is I who should be bowing to you, Your Highness.” I stepped into a curtsy of my own, the action coming back in muscle memory.
“You need not.” Caspian shook his head, straightening up and looking mildly horrified at my actions. “You are the High Queen. I am merely a Prince, your Majesty.”
“Then perhaps we can do away with the titles? You can just call me by my name.” I said, straightening up as well. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“In that case, please, just call me Caspian.” He offered his hand out and I placed mine in his. “The pleasure is entirely mine.” He lowered himself down again to gently press his lips against my hand.
I felt the butterflies in my heart stir in a way they had not done in years. I wondered who had taught Caspian his lessons in chivalry.
“I do apologize for running into you.” I said, looking down and quickly straightening my skirt that had become wrinkled. “I’m afraid my navigational skills are being tested by this palace.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life, and I still managed to get lost at times.” His smile was kind. I decided I wanted to see it often. “Might I have the honor of escorting you to your destination?” He extended his arm.
I hesitated a moment. My chest remained tight but not in a bad way. I hadn’t felt it squeeze like this in years. And my brain was telling me it felt wrong. But my heart was telling me it felt right.
“Thank you.” I agreed, carefully wrapping my arm around his. “I was trying to find the dining room.”
“Splendid, I was heading that way myself.”
We began to walk at a leisurely pace. I felt like the entire world was staring at me despite the halls being empty. What was wrong with me!
“I must offer you my thanks.” I spoke, to keep my mind away from my thoughts. “I was told how you rescued me from the water. You saved my life.”
“There is no thanks necessary. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to save your life one day to make things even.”
He didn’t respond right away. Part of me hoped he would say something defensive. That he would prove himself a pillar of toxic masculinity, too insecure to even pretend he might need to be saved by a woman. Because then I could latch onto that flaw. I could use it as an anchor to make my heart stop hammering.
“I look forward to being your damsel in distress.” He said, eventually, a light chuckle coloring his voice. Christ, he had a beautiful voice. The accent hit my ear like a song that was written for me.
He continued to lead the way, placing a second hand on top of mine to secure me as we descended a spiral staircase.
We continued to make light conversation the rest of the way there. His energy was bright. Magnetic.
I hate to admit that I was saddened when we arrived at the dining room. The moment I recognized the disappointment, I quickly pushed it back down inside.
“And here we are.” Caspian gently unlinked our arms only to quickly slip ahead to hold the door to the dining room open.
I had hoped the room would be a bit more grand. Not in the sense that I needed nice things. In fact, grandeur often made me uncomfortable. It had taken me ages to get used to Cair Paravel. More in the sense that I was getting sick of this grey, brown, and beige stone castle.
We found the dining table empty as well, Miraz and his wife nowhere in sight.
As if sensing the question, an older woman—a cook maybe?—stepped out from a hallway.
“Oh! Prince Caspian. You’re uncle wished for me to inform you, and our guest” she nodded to me politely, “that he and Lady Prunaprismia will not be able to join you for dinner.”
“Is everything alright?” Caspian asked.
“The Lady was feeling tired this evening, and the Lord had business matters to attend to.” The cook replied. “But we shall prepare a meal for the two of you.”
“My aunt has been on and off bed rest as of late.” Caspian offered an explanation to me. “She’s with child.”
“How exiting!” I smiled. I was never much great with kids, but I was happy for them, nonetheless.
“Any requests for the meal Your Highness?” The cook addressed Caspian. He looked to me, and I shook my head, happy with anything.
“Whatever you have planned will be splendid, Miss. Agatha.” The Prince said before tilting his head like he had an idea. “Actually, any chance you could pack it up in a basket?”
“Got yourselves a picnic planned?” The woman, Miss. Agatha, shot us a knowing look, which immediately made me turn red.
Caspian didn’t seem to notice. “This weekend is the only opportunity to witness the Bear’s Claw meteorite shower in over a thousand years.” The excitement was clear in his voice. “I’d planned to see it last night but…I got distracted.” He gave me a knowing wink.
I blinked. He was…teasing me? Flirting? And my damn chest was going to explode.
“I shall prepare the perfect stargazing picnic.” The cook was grinning wider now. Despite my embarrassment, I decided I liked her. “I shall have it sent up to you so as not to keep you waiting. The North Tower observation deck, I assume?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Caspian nodded. “That is, unless you’d prefer a more traditional dinner?”
“Oh no, a picnic sounds wonderful!” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too enthusiastic. “I’ve missed the Narnian skies. They’re different than the ones back home.”
The cook gave me a slightly odd look before disappearing back towards what I assumed to be the kitchen.
“Don’t mind her.” The Prince said, offering his arm to me again, which I gladly accepted. “Narnian history of the Golden Ages is not widely taught anymore. Talking of the past is considered rather taboo.”
“Gold Ages?” I asked, letting him guide me back up the stairs we’d descended minutes before.
“When you and the other Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve ruled.” He replied as though it were obvious. And maybe it should have been.
“I see.” I nodded. “Not to sound self-centered, but why isn’t it taught?”
“I suppose most people believe they are no more than stories. It was so long ago, after all. And with the extinction of the Narnians before our people even arrived, most of what we know is pieced together by historians like the Professor, my tutor.”
“No more than stories.” I echoed, feeling like an arrow had been lodged in my back. I thought of all my friends. The ones who had stuck with me even when I tried to shut out the world. The soldiers I had fought alongside. The ones who had given their lives to protect the land that they loved.
Looking over to my face, Caspian was quick to fix his mistake. “I didn’t mean-”
“It’s alright.” I cut him off. “I know what you meant. I just make me sad, is all.”
We were quiet, the only noise being our footsteps and quiet breath as we continued to climb the stairs, getting higher and higher.
We eventually made it to a top landing. The North Tower, I assumed. From there, I took in my first real look at Narnia.
The sun was in a stage of setting where the brightness had already disappeared below the horizon, but the swirl of colors would remain for a few minutes more. I breathed a sigh of relief at the yellows, oranges, and pinks lighting up the sky. I felt like my palette had been cleansed from the dullness of the castle.
We were facing the ocean, most of the land behind us, but I could see the outline of the shore below. There was a moat surrounding the palace, another fact that made me uneasy, but I chose not to focus on that. The castle itself was huge, really a fortress more than anything. It blocked most of the view, but I could see the tall standing trees as far as I could see in the opposite direction.
The trees were still.
Rooted in the ground.
Not moving.
“The trees used to dance.” I mumbled.
“They did?”
I became aware once more of the other boy’s presence.
“Beautifully.” I nodded. “I can practically hear the music too. They danced this elegant carole. I used to love watching them. I loved dancing with them.”
“What’s a carole?”
“It’s a group dance in a circle. Or with a partner.” I explained, thinking back to the festivals and parties we would host and attend. They weren’t like those stuffy balls I hated. These were fun. Free. “Some are choreographed, but sometimes you just feel the music and dance.”
“You just make it up as you go?”
“Like this.” I nodded, extending my hand before I could think twice. He took it quickly, once again not seeming to mind taking the less masculine role.
I began to hum a quiet tune, something I didn’t know the name of but had heard a hundred times back in my day. In the Golden Ages.
I started us slow, using our joined hands to step together, then apart in time with the rhythm. Together, then apart.
I then led us further across the small platform, before spinning myself under us and having Caspian do the same to straighten out our wrists again.
“You’re getting the hang of it now.” I laughed as he slowly took over the leading role, spinning me once more.
The dance became less of a traditional carole but carried on the spirit of freeness as he continued to spin me and I continued to hum between my laughter. He was smiling as well, eventually placing a hand on my waist as mine found his shoulder, and we continued moving at a lively pace.
He had just spun me once more as the door opened, and I nearly knocked face-first into some poor young boy servant carrying up a basket almost as large as he was.
“Oh goodness!” I shouted, quick to apologize when I saw the fear on the boy’s face. He couldn’t have been older than 12. He reminded me of Lucy when we were growing up. “I’m so sorry!”
“The fault is mine ma’am.” The boy still looked scared. It made me wonder about the treatment of the workers in the palace.
“I assure you it is not. This isn’t the first time I’ve nearly run into someone today. I ran face-first into Caspian earlier.” I said, looking over at the Prince who was watching the interaction with surprise. Like he didn’t expect me to speak to the boy.
“It is true.” He nodded, offering the boy a smile. “Come here, James. I’m sure Miss. Agatha packed us a sweet treat.” Caspian accepted the basket from the still wary boy’s arms. He opened it, rooted around inside, before pulling out what looked to be a chocolate chip cookie. “Here we are. Now don’t tell my uncle I gave this to you.” Caspian said with a wink.
This finally got a smile out of the boy, James, as he gladly accepted the cookie and took an eager bite. “Thank you, sir.” He said, giving a clumsy bow to Caspian before turning to me, “Ma’am.” With that, he slipped back the way he had come, shoving the cookie in his mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten.
“Here we are.” I was pulled from my ponderings of the boy by Caspian’s voice.
The darkness was taking over, and I watched as the Prince pulled out a blanket from the basket and, with a flourish, spread it out across the ground. He placed the basket in the center and pulled out a candle so we could see, lighting it with a small match.
“My Lady?” He offered his forearm for the third time that night. I accepted it as he helped me to a sitting position.
“It looks like we’ve been given a variety of cheeses, meats, and crackers.” He said, pulling out the items.
“Charcuterie.” I grinned.
“Char -who?” He looked up in confusion.
“Charcuterie.” I laughed. “It’s what we call a meat, cheese, and cracker platter in my world.”
“Charcuterie.” Caspian echoed, managing to mispronounce nearly every vowel, but it made it all the more endearing.
“Exactly.” I nodded.
The conversation flowed naturally as we ate. I told him more about the Golden Ages, the parts that were easy to talk about. The creatures, the culture, the traditions. In turn, he told me more about the Telmarines and his uncle. He told me how he longed for the old days of Narnia, obsessing over the stories he’d been told by his Tutor. He told of the death of his father and how he was supposed to become King one day.
“Your uncle…” I said cautiously. By now, the sun had set completely, and the stars were beginning to emerge. “Is he a fair King?”
“Technically, he is not the King.” Caspian’s voice turned soft. Like he was worried someone might hear. “His title is Lord Protector.”
“Do you get along?”
“Well enough.” He shrugged. “He is nothing like my father.”
“What was he like?”
“He was a good man. Everything a King should be. I fear for the day I’m forced to take the throne, for I know I will never live up to the be the man he was.”
“Someone once told me that not being ready to rule is exactly what makes you a good King.”
“I just miss him.”
I was surprised by the moment of vulnerability. Yes, Caspian has thus far been transparent and open, but it caught me off guard, nonetheless.
“I know how you feel.” I said eventually. “Losing people you love…it’s impossible to forget.”
“The High King?” Caspian chanced a glance at me. Even in the darkness, the moon was large enough to illuminate our faces.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Really, all of the people from my days, but Pete most of all. When I lost him, I was sick over it. The grief felt like a disease that I couldn’t expel. Like it settled in my lungs and reminded me of its presence every time I took a breath.”
“How do we recover?” He asked, voice hopeful for an answer I couldn’t provide.
“I’m not sure.” I whispered. “I guess I’ve gotten used to the grief. It’s still there, but more like a scar on my skin. It’s not going anywhere, but I guess we just have to live with it.”
“I’m sure that’s what Peter would have wanted. For you to keep living your life.”
“I suppose.” I sighed, knowing he was right. “I just can’t stop myself from thinking…”
“That if you’re in Narnia, then maybe Peter is too?”
“Exactly.” I nodded, hating the hope that sparked in me at the validation of my thoughts. “I don’t even know why I’m here. It seems like a time of peace. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”
Quiet again.
“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here.”
The eye contact Caspian offered me was so intense that it was as though the sun had risen again. But I didn’t break away. Instead, I smiled.
“Me too.” And I meant it.
Before either of us could continue, a flash of light appeared overhead.
“There!” Caspian said excitedly. “The Bear’s Claw meteorite shower!” He pointed up at the sky as if it were possible to miss the bright gold that was streaking across the night sky.
“It’s beautiful.” I breathed out, not noticing how the Prince looked over at me at the word.
“It hasn’t been seen in over 1200 years.”
“About 1309 years, I believe, was the last time it was visible.” I hummed, still looking up.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I was there.”
I caught his eye this time before we both burst into a fit of laughter at the outlandishness.
And despite the changed shoreline, the dark castle, new people, and the dull atmosphere, with the sky shrinking gold and Prince Caspian by my side, things were finally starting to feel okay. It was finally starting to feel like Narnia.
---
Despite the lateness of the hour when I finally retired, I found it difficult to reach a state of sleep.
While my body longed to finally turn off, my brain seemed incapable of slowing its endless whirling.
My first thoughts were of Caspian.
I counted myself incredibly lucky to have become acquainted with someone like him. The Prince was kind but gentle. He wasn’t stern like his uncle; he seemed hopeful and full of life. Though he was cautious. His actions were purposeful, particularly when we’d been walking through the halls of the palace. Like he was expected to behave just so, and was worried about the consequences of his freedom.
He seemed much more at ease when we’d been atop the tower.
I convinced myself that my heart warmed simply from the excitement of being back in Narnia. It was just the beauty of the stars and lights above that caused my chest to squeeze. It had absolutely nothing to do with the closeness of the other man sitting just a foot away from me on the picnic blanket. It had nothing to do with the way we linked arms as he escorted me back to my quarters. And there was absolutely nothing to be felt when he said goodnight, bowing down and placing a soft kiss on my hand for the second time that day.
Once I’d come to terms with the fact that I was lying to myself, this only brought a new problem to light.
Peter.
Caspian and I had talked about grief; his for his father and mine for my husband. It was in my own explanation that I found a strange amount of peace. It had been over five years since the Pevensies disappeared. Five years I’d been on my own, coping and living with the loss of the man I loved.
I thought back to the boys in England, the ones who claimed to fancy me. My lack of interest in them I’d always attributed to a continued devotion to my late husband. I’d never felt anything but annoyance and occasional sadness.
But I did not feel that way now.
Perhaps it was the lack of fire in these schoolboys. I knew they wouldn’t be able to counter me as an equal. Even if they did manage to love me truly, in their eyes, I would never be an equal. That just wasn’t what they were looking for.
But Caspian…
Even if I was not ready to admit my self-lies were actually true, I couldn’t ignore the physical effects I’d begun to experience. And no sooner did I first broach the topic in my head than the guilt swarmed my stomach like a flight of bees. Stabbing and gnawing upon my insides in a way that pushed sleep even farther from my reach.
What would Peter think of me now? What if he did return to Narnia, same as I, and found me courting another man? No! Not courting. I cursed my brain for jumping there. Caspian and I had only just met. We were still just new friends. Nothing more.
I confess I do not know how long I laid awake pondering a scenario in which I could never win, until eventually I felt myself wake to the light creeping in my window signaling the morning had arrived.
At some point, whether it be last night or early morning, I hadn’t a clue, a new dress had been laid out for me along with fresh undergarments and shoes that fit Narnia far better than the flats I’d arrived in. The dress was another dull color, but this time it was a dusty, faded purple. Purple was better than grey, so I counted that as a victory.
A bathtub had also been filled and wheeled to my quarters, allowing me to finally rid myself of the seawater on my skin. When I’d finally prepared myself and dressed, I felt much better than I had the day before.
I’d decided my first task would be getting a better grasp on navigating the palace. I needed to find my way back to the kitchens to find something to eat. I’d also like to speak with the Doctor again, perhaps to try and get a better understanding of the dynamics at play in the present time. I could ask Caspian, but the impression I’d gotten was that he was either kept in the dark or too wrapped up in the concealment of the castle to know much of the outside world. I sensed the Doctor knew more from the little I had seen of him yesterday.
My schedule was disrupted the moment I opened my door.
The Prince immediately perked up from where he’d been leaning against the cold stone wall across from my door. His hair had been brushed smooth. He wore a white shirt with a dull green waistcoat over top. His eyes found mine as he bowed in greeting. “Good morning, my lady.”
“Were you…waiting for me?” I found myself speaking without thinking.
He didn’t bother to look sheepish, instead giving a sure nod. “Yes. I thought I could give you a tour of the castle today, given your understandable difficulty navigating it yesterday.”
“How long have you been out here?” I tried to stop myself from feeling flattered.
“Not long.” This time, a slight blush found its way to his face. “I brought you breakfast.” He changed the subject quickly, pulling a cloth from his pocket and unwrapping it to reveal a slightly smooshed pastry. “But I would also be more than happy to show you to the kitchens. My aunt and uncle typically have a more impressive breakfast spread, I just thought…perhaps it might be pleasant to spend the morning together rather than with them.” He trailed off in the middle, like he was debating whether to tell the truth, before deciding the be straight forward.
“Thank you.” I stepped forward and accepted the unwrapped pastry. It reminded me of a muffin, but a bit more bready. I took a bite. It tasted well enough, not as sweet as I expected and nowhere near as flavorful as the chefs in Cair Paravel’s baking, but I thanked him, nonetheless.
“What would you like to see first?” The Prince asked as he began strolling down the hall. I tried not to lament at the way our arms remained unlinked as I required both hands to eat my breakfast. He too seemed slightly off, like he was unsure what to do with his hands, opting eventually to walk with them both behind his back.
“What are your favorite places?”
“I spend much of my time in the library.” Caspian answered. “Though when I walked past it this morning, the Professor and my uncle were speaking quietly about something, so perhaps we should avoid that room until later.”
I nodded, taking another bite of the pastry.
“Do you like horses?”
Our first stop was the stables. Caspian was proud to introduce me to his horse, Destrier. I was startled to find that none of the horses could speak. Just as startled as Caspian was when I asked Destrier if he was married.
Next, we went to the courtyard.
I confess this was not my favorite place. It was a large open square, with tall towers and windows surrounding it. Maybe it was all in my head, but I felt as though I was being watched. By the guards. By the maids. Even by the various noble men whom I’d yet to meet, as they spoke to each other in hushed tones.
Whether Caspian sensed my discomfort or felt some of his own, I wasn’t sure. Whatever the reason, we did not remain in the courtyard for long.
I did my best to make a mental map as we continued walking, now arm in arm, from one room to another. Anyone we passed would offer Caspian a quick bow or curtsy, but few addressed me at all. Caspian must have been right; with Narnian history not being taught here, people had no idea who I was. I was just some random girl spending time with their Prince; the implications of what people might think of that scenario turned my cheeks pink.
I found that I didn’t mind the lack of acknowledgement so much. I never cared much for formalities back in my day. But it did sadden me. Not for my own sake, but rather for Narnia’s.
“There really isn’t much excitement here.” Caspian said, pushing open a wooden door. “This is the-”
“Training ground!” I exclaimed, finding myself leaving his side to rush into the room. Finally, something that made me feel at home! It was well organized, with swards and other weapons lining the left wall and dummies and targets along the right. The center of the large room was empty; a place for knights to train and spar.
“It is.” Caspian nodded, following me over to the display of swords. “This one is reserved for the royal family and House of Lords. I was trained here growing up, though I confess I do not practice as much now as I should.”
I hummed in acknowledgement, picking up a sword that was leaning in the back of the display. This one was mixed metals, mostly silver but with a gold streak down the center. It stood out against the rest of the grey and reminded me of my weapon of choice back in the day.
“Don’t hurt yourself. The blade is sharp.”
The Prince’s comment made me slowly turn my head to look at him, blinking in disbelief. “Really? I shouldn’t touch the sharp blade of a sword? Should I also not touch fire, or do you think it won’t be hot?”
“You’ve used a sword before?” He seemed taken aback.
“Want to find out?” I asked, nodding for him to grab one of his own before turning and making my way to the center of the room. I spun the blade in my hand, testing the balance. It was slightly longer than I preferred, and I’d lost some of the muscle in my arms, but I could counteract that by using the weight as a force of speed.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Caspian said, but did as he was told, grabbing a sword and joining me on the sparring floor.
“You won’t.” I grinned, before using the element of surprise to make my fist move.
Caspian’s sword had been hanging by his side, so I lunged forward and parried it up, effectively putting him in a more prepared stance.
“What just-” Caspian started in surprise, but didn’t get to finish his sentence because I was advancing again, swinging the blade above my head and making hard contact with his sword in an attempt to fling it from his hand.
It seemed Caspian had recovered from his initial shock because he managed to deflect my attack, blocking it easily as he rolled his shoulders and squared his feet. I didn’t realize how widely I was smiling until he mirrored me with a grin of his own.
He made the next move, swiping at my legs, low enough that I could easily jump to avoid it. I could tell he was going easy on me, and that simply was unacceptable.
So, I made the next move, swinging for his head and hoping he was as good a fighter as he was a flirt because otherwise, I would have killed my only friend in this place.
“Christ!” He cursed, managing to duck the swing with the quickness of someone with a great deal of training, but followed it but a laugh. “I take it I have made a grave miscalculation?”
“You wouldn’t be the first.” I said, stepping forward and clashing our swords again. I don’t think I’d ever been in a battle or even a friendly sparring match with someone who didn’t think they could beat me. Even the men I trained with day after day still felt they had some biological advantage over me. Still would put money on their victory only to lose again and again. It was an advantage on the battlefield, being underestimated, but it didn’t feel too great in real life.
Peter was one of the few who conceded to my skill. He hated letting me fight because he’d always been too much of a worrier when it came to my safety, but he’d always conceded eventually, saying they needed me to win. He was the first to grant me the title of the Warrior Queen.
I’d been so lost in my thoughts I’d nearly forgotten my surroundings until I was brought back by the sound of metal clattering to the floor. I looked up to see Caspian, disarmed and breathing heavily, but with an almost proud smile on his face.
“I guess I wasn’t the one who needed to worry about doing harm.” The Prince spoke, both hands still raised in surrender. “Forgive me for my lack of faith. You are clearly a far better swordsman than I.”
“I will spare your life.” I said, putting on a faux dangerous voice. “But I may not be so generous next time you underestimate me.”
“Believe me, there will never be a next time.” Caspian walked over to retrieve his sword that had fallen to the ground. “And I do apologize. It is just that the Telmarine women are not permitted to train or fight in battle. I did not expect…that.”
“Are things rather traditional here then?” I asked, allowing Caspian to take my sword as he went to put both our blades back where we’d found them. I noticed he held my gold one with a certain reverence, running his hand along an inscription on the side I had not noticed previously.
“In some ways.” Caspian nodded. “There are differing expectations for men and women, especially those of nobility. Men are taught to be chivalrous, training in the codes of courtship as well as battle.” That would explain how his charisma came so naturally. “Noble women have strict standards as well, specific activities deemed appropriate.”
“I assume I should put down my sword and take up needlepoint?” I tested him.
“Not at all.” He said quickly. “Setting down your sword would be a great loss to the art of the blade. I do not believe in these standards. People should be able to do whatever they like.”
He held the door open for me as we exited the training room, nearly bumping into a group of maids all carrying large bins of fabric. They gave a quick curtsey before rushing off in the opposite direction, shooting each other knowing looks.
“So I suppose an unmarried woman emerging from an empty room with the Crown Prince, red-faced, and sweating might not be considered couth?”
Caspian looked down at his clothes, disheveled from sparing, then at mine, in a similar state, and let out another one of his laughs. “Yes, I suppose that may be frowned upon. But it matters not to me.”
Because it isn’t your reputation being harmed, I thought to myself, but chose not to voice it. Things were different here. They’d been different back in the Golden Ages, too, and I’d learned to tolerate it then. I could do it again.
“I suppose I should be getting back to my quarters.” I said after was had walked down the last length of the castle.
“Why?”
I had not anticipated this question. “I don’t want to eat up all the time in your day.”
“I assure you, there is no other place I would rather be.”
For some reason, I believed him.
“Might we go out along the beach or into the city? I’d quite like to see outside the palace.”
“We aren’t supposed to.” Caspian said, face falling. “I could ask my uncle to grant us permission and guards, but…he prefers me to stay within the walls.”
“Why’s that?”
“When my father died, they never caught his killer.” The Prince’s voice dropped low like it had done the only other time he’d mentioned his father before. “When I was young, I was kept inside as a safety precaution. So, the man who murdered the King didn’t try to come after me as well.”
“Are you still in danger?” I couldn’t help but perk up though, I immediately felt guilty after. I still didn’t know why I’d been sent here. Last time, we were brought to Narnia to defeat the White Witch. And, while I didn’t want any harm to come to Caspian, perhaps I was here to help defend the throne? Or protect Miraz?
“I do not think so.” He said slowly. “But…”
“But?”
“Sometimes I feel as though something is off.” He stopped walking, turning to me. “I feel like people are watching me. Like, I cannot trust anyone.” He looked away, biting at his lip. “And I have these dreams. I’m not sure if they tell the future or are some shadow of the past. But I see pain. And fear. And I can never remember exactly what happened, but I wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding as if I’d run a marathon.”
“I’m sorry.” I spoke, reaching out to place a hand on the side of his arm. “That sounds scary.”
He seemed to remember himself, a look of embarrassment crossing his eyes. “It is nothing I cannot handle. I did not mean to burden you.”
“You need not apologize.” I reassured. “Dreams can be terrifying. I used to get them after some of our worst battles. Peter too. They’re hard. Especially alone.”
“I’m alright.” He said, like he thought it was his turn to reassure me.
“I know you are. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to go through them alone if you don’t want to. Come find me next time it happens.”
“I fear me seeking you out in the middle of the night might not help the rumors that are no doubt beginning to spread.”
“It matters not to me.” I echoed his own words back to him.
---
Later that afternoon, once Caspian had been pulled away for a lesson with his Tutor, I heard a knock on my bedroom door before a woman answered. I recognized her as one of the maids who had seen the Prince and I emerge from the training facility together.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” She said with a curtsey. I noticed again that no title was used with my name. Not that it mattered for purposes of vanity, more as an observation. “His Lordship has requested your presence in the Great Hall for afternoon tea.”
“Miraz?” I asked, not particularly caring for the framing as a request rather than an invitation.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please do call me by my first name.”
“I’m afraid I cannot.” She looked uncomfortable by the request, making my stomach turn slightly. “Shall I lead you to the Hall, or do you know the way?”
“I can find it. Thank you though.” I replied, watching as she bowed, then slipped out of the room. Every interaction I had with the staff seemed to be further confirmation of the strangeness of the environment here in the castle.
I was proud to find I could, in fact, navigate my way to the Great Hall. I may have taken a few wrong turns, but eventually I found myself standing in front of the large wooden doors. I nodded to the guard who was stationed in front, and he turned, mechanically opening the door for me to enter.
“Good afternoon. I’m glad you’re able to join me.” I was surprised to see Miraz rise as he spoke, stepping away from the table he’d been sitting at to meet me halfway as I walked into the room. He held out his hand, and I did my best to conceal my surprise as I gave him my own and he pressed a kiss to it. It wasn’t the action itself that was strange to me, a kiss on the hand was a common greeting, especially among royals, but rather that it was him doing it. My impression, both from our conversation yesterday as well as the general energy within his castle, was that he would not be one who commonly bowed down to others. And yet here we are.
“It is my pleasure.” I replied, giving him a curtsey of my own. “I was honored to receive your invitation.”
“The honor is mine.” He offered me his arm, guiding me the short way to the table and pulling out a chair for me to sit.
It was strange; his actions and words were so similar to those of Caspian, yet I felt the difference. When Caspian offered me his arm, it was a sign of respect. It was an act of chivalry and honor. But when Miraz held my arm, it felt more like an act of control. Like he was guiding me somewhere rather than following my lead.
I didn’t care for it.
“Will the others be joining us?” I asked, taking my seat and noticing the table was only set for the two of us.
“No.” Miraz offered no explanation, taking his own seat once more. He snapped his fingers, and a maid appeared, pouring tea into his cup first, then my own. I was grateful we would be drinking from the same pot. I did not think Miraz would poison me so soon after allowing me to recover in his castle, but one could never be too careful. “How have you been enjoying your time back in Narnia, your Majesty?”
His words again surprised me. Before, he’d only referred to me as a Lady, despite his knowledge of my title. Unlike with Caspian or the others I’d encountered so far, I opted not to drop the formality. I already felt like he was looking down at me. He deserved to voice the fact that I outranked him.
“It is quite different from what I remember.” I said eventually. A tower was brought out with different tiers of sweets, sandwiches, and scones. It felt far too English. Again, Miraz did not thank the maid. “I do appreciate your hospitality.”
“I understand you’ve become well acquainted with my nephew.” Miraz took a sip of his tea. I still couldn’t quite read his face.
“I have.”
“I apologize if he’s acted inappropriately. I am still trying to train him in the rules of propriety.”
“He has been most chivalrous and welcoming.”
“I do not doubt it.” Miraz gave a dry laugh. “My nephew has a bit of a reputation with the young women in Narnia. You’ll forgive me for saying, but a young woman such as yourself would do well to avoid him as not to sully your reputation.”
“I do not believe my reputation needs your protection.” I said, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Yes, of course.” Miraz gave a small grin. Like he’d accomplished something, though I was unsure what it was. “I did not mean to imply anything against you. You are married, is that correct?”
I did not like how this tea was going. “I was.” I nodded. “The complexities of the Narnian timeline separated my husband and me.”
“Well, you have returned. Perhaps the High King will as well.”
“Perhaps.”
“Have you heard anything?”
“No.” I said, turning to look at the wall. Lord, would it kill them to hang a tapestry or something to give the room some life? It was supposed to be the Great Hall after all.
I was called back to the table by a hand landing atop of mine, which had been resting on the table. I started slightly, attempting to recoil but finding Miraz’s grasp firm.
“I would like to get to know you better.” He was looking at me, unblinking. Creepy, like a crow.
“And I welcome the opportunity to hear more about the Narnia of today,” I said, managing to extricate my hand with a careful tug. “I particularly am interested in venturing beyond the walls of the palace.”
He frowned. “Why would you wish to leave the palace?”
“To see more of my country.”
“I see.”
It was quiet for a moment.
“I fear I am beginning to grow tired,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly. I did not wish to anger my host, but I did not wish to remain alone in his presence any longer.
“You may retire to your room.” He spoke, granting permission that I didn’t feel I needed. “We shall meet at the same time tomorrow. I will escort you outside of the walls of the palace. We can visit the city below.”
I nodded. “I look forward to it.”
He stood again, giving a bow, curt this time. Like, he could only keep up appearances for so long. “Until we meet again, my lady.”
I muttered my farewell, giving a curtsey just a brief moment before making my way out the doors and not turning back.
---
The next three weeks, I fell into a routine.
Despite his uncle’s warning, I would spend the mornings with Caspian. Sometimes we would spar. Others, we would stroll throughout the palace. Sometimes we would journey up to the North Tower, which I learned was his favorite place to watch the world below, and just talk. We talked about absolutely everything under the sun, as well as nothing at all. He told me of his childhood, what it was like growing up within the walls of the castle. About his nurse who first told him the stories of old then the Tutor who taught him with the expectations of secrecy. He told me he enjoys horse riding, not just for purposes of battle but for the freedom it offered. The rush of wind and the excitement of the speed. He loved music but did not often get to experience its pleasure.
In turn, I told him of my life. I told him stories of what I was quickly getting used to calling the Golden Ages. I told him of the battle against the White Witch, the diplomatic voyages we’d gone on, the parties, the festivals, the joy. I had been surprised when he asked about my life back in my world. I did not find it nearly as exciting as my life as a queen, but he found even my most ordinary of stories fascinating. I told him of my classes back at school, of the politics in London, the battles of the world, and even the turmoil within my own family. The expectations they had of me to meet, and the consequences when I did not.
He was the closest friend I’d had in years. I found it incredibly wonderful to have a confidant I could trust and who trusted me in return. I forced myself to push down any feelings that were not platonic, focusing only on the connection we shared. But, despite myself, I found my scars of grief, while still present, drawing my attention less and less. Healing from the inside out.
Around noon, Caspian always had to attend to duties. Sometimes it was lessons with his Tutor. Others it was various training his uncle had him complete. It was during these times that a maid would always find me, telling me Miraz had requested my presence.
My afternoons with the Lord were the least enjoyable parts of my day. Often, we had tea. Sometimes he would escort me out to the town, though my experience was never enjoyable, as we were constantly surrounded by guards and the real people we passed all bent into bows so low it would have been impossible for me to offer a greeting without stooping down to the ground.
I had yet to figure out the Lord’s intentions. Every day, I became more and more puzzled. There were times I worried he was trying to court me, offering me gifts on occasion or playing up the chivalry. But I refused to entertain that possibility. Not only was he nearly twice my age, but he had a wife and a baby on the way. He would not be foolish enough to engage in such activity. Not that I was at all interested in any sense.
In the evenings, Caspian and I would reunite. We often ate supper together, sometimes in the dining room, other times on the North Tower, watching the stars come out. I spent more time by his side than I did alone. While I did not believe what Miraz had said about Caspian having a tendency with the ladies, it did flash in my brain from time to time when he would place a hand on my waist or sit a bit closer than what was considered proper. But I trusted him. And that was that.
Though concerns regarding intentions did jump to my brain once when I was awakened in the middle of the night to a soft knock and the whisper of my name at the door.
I jumped out of bed, grabbed the satin blue robe that was lying over my chair, and wrapped it around my night gown. I opened the door a crack, surprised to see Caspian, also dressed in his sleep clothes.
“Caspian? What?”
“I’m sorry.” He muttered, tone strained. I could hear his breath, rapid and uneven. “I should not have come. I will leave you now.” He turned to go just as quickly as he’d arrived. But his movement shifted the light, allowing me to see his face.
He appeared clammy and red, his eyes bloodshot and almost scared.
Then I remembered what he’d said once before. Nightmares.
“Nonsense. Come back.” I said, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him into my dark room. I closed the door behind me before ushering him over to have a seat on my bed. “Some water?” I offered. That had always helped me.
He nodded. Even in the dark, I could feel an intense energy coming from him. Panic remained from the dream, as well as a touch of embarrassment, as he came back to himself.
I decided to give him a moment to breathe, walking over to the pitcher on the small desk in the corner and pouring him a glass of water. I also grabbed a washcloth from a pile one of the maids restocked each day, pouring a bit of the water on that and bringing both over to the prince.
“Here.” I handed him the glass, which he accepted. His hands were not shaking, a good sign. He took a sip as I took the wet washcloth and gently dabbed it along his hairline, wiping away the remaining fear.
Caspian swallowed quickly, “You shouldn’t have to-”
“I do not have to do anything.” I cut him off, still keeping my voice low given the hour. “But let me?”
He paused a second before giving a reluctant nod. I resumed my movements, watching as his breath evened out and the tension began to fade from his shoulders.
Eventually, he inhaled sharply, seeming to come back to himself. He stood abruptly, “I cannot apologize enough for my actions.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” I set the cloth aside and sat where he’d been moments before. “I offered to help, remember? I used to do the same thing for Peter as he did for me.”
“Still. Peter was your husband. I’m just…” He trailed off.
“Someone who’s important to me.” I finished the sentence. “Truly, I am honored that you trust me enough to come to me.”
“I trust you with my life.” He said, no doubt in his tone.
“And you with mine.” I said, just as genuine.
He looked around the dark room, noticing seemingly for the first time that I was in my night clothes and blushing.
I couldn’t help but give a small laugh that eventually turned into a yawn.
“I should leave you to sleep.”
“You may stay.” I said, really, without thinking. “It would not be right for me to send you off alone after the fright you’ve had. I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy.”
“I do not wish to intrude.”
“You will not.”
“I will set up on the floor.”
“You will not.” I said again, laughing. “I think we are both mature enough to sleep side by side.”
“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”
“You should know me well enough to know I would not offer something that I was uncomfortable with.”
Caspian was quiet for a moment, seeming at war in his head, before giving a small nod and walking over towards me. I scooted over to the far side of the bed, remembering how Peter had always insisted on having the side closest to the door in case of an attack or some other scenario that lives within the minds of boys. I climbed under the covers, turning my back to Caspian for privacy as he slowly lay down as well. While he kept space between our bodies, I could feel the heat radiating off his back. It made me shiver in the most delightful way that I tried to push from my mind.
We lay in the darkness for several minutes, neither of us sleeping, but neither of us speaking either. I found the heat near my back distracting. A tease. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking this way. It was I who had assured him we were both mature enough to keep to ourselves, but I couldn’t stop my mind from wishing he would turn and wrap me in his arms.
I let out a sigh, frustrated with the patheticness of my own mind.
“Can’t sleep?” Came the soft voice next to me.
Finally, I rolled over, and he did the same. I was yet again aware of how close he was, our faces eye to eye in the darkness of the room.
“Just a lot in my brain.”
“Me too.” He whispered back.
“What do you usually do when you can’t sleep?”
“My nurse used to read to me when I was young. Tell me stories.” He said. “My uncle fired her years ago.”
“My brother used to do the same.”
“You have a brother?” Capsian’s voice was surprised. Which was fair. Considering how much we’d spoken the last several weeks, I supposed it would have come up.
“I did.” I said softly.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It was years ago.” I replied. “Years before I even came to Narnia the first time.”
“If I may ask, how did he die?”
“He was a soldier. Fought in a war in our world. Killed in action just a week after he left.”
“I am so sorry.”
There was quiet once more.
Caspian was first to break the silence. “What sort of stories did he tell you?”
“I don’t suppose you are familiar with King Aurther?”
“I am not. Was he a King in your world?”
“No. Well, maybe? It’s more of a legend, I suppose. It’s possible he was based on a real king, but it’s more of a myth now.”
“What did Arthur do?”
“Well, he was the king of a kingdom called Camelot.” I smiled at the memory. “It was a beautiful Kingdom of knights, magic, and love. When I was young, I’d always wanted to go to Camelot.”
“You sort of did.” The Prince pointed out, causing me to let out a laugh.
“I suppose you're right.”
And that was how we fell asleep. I told him of Arthur's origins, the sword in the stone. I told him of the knights of the round table and the adventures they would go on to save Camelot. I told him of Queen Guinevere and the love she and Arthur shared.
I wasn’t sure who fell asleep first. All I knew was that when I woke the next morning, I was convinced I was still dreaming. There were two strong arms wrapped around me, just as they had been when I was pulled out of the water. My head rested on Caspian’s chest as we fit together like puzzle pieces.
My heart skipped a beat, tightening and falling in the most thrilling way.
And for the first time, thoughts of the High King did not spring to my mind and ruin the moment. I just smiled, closed my eyes, and fell back to sleep—finally feeling safety, happiness, and love.