Chronicles of Narnia 1. Chapter 1

My disclaimer for this story; I most certainly and evidently do not claim to have ownership over C . S Lewis's work. Any characters you recognise are not mine…unfortunately.

So please…read and hopefully enjoy!

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**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter I**

"King Caspian must take a wife!"

Caspian sighed heavily, running a weary hand over his throbbing temples as once more chaos descended around him. The young king stole a furtive glance through parted fingers at his councillors and advisors seated at the table before him.

Most of the older men were looking just as exasperated as he felt, and Lord Arvais had nodded off sometime during the proceedings, the braided ends of his great silver beard edging ever nearer to the goblet of burgundy wine his hand still clasped loosely.

Caspian clenched his jaw tightly as Lord Cras – one of the most adamant advocates of the proposal – launched his favourite argument.

"King Caspian is of an age now where he should have provided the kingdom already with an heir; an impossibility given he is yet to take a wife! That leaves the kingdom in a state of peril, should King Caspian – May Aslan forbid it – die unexpectedly there would be civil war with no apparent regent to take to the throne. And during this time of weakness when Narnia would be without leadership our enemies would take advantage and launch an attack!" Lord Cras finished, banging his fist down on the oaken table with conviction.

Caspian absently noted the ripples that appeared in his wine at the outburst.

"Your love of our kingdom is commendable Sir, if it were not for the fact that I was made aware that just last week you moved your own unmarried daughter into the palace…" Lord Restor spoke, leaving the insinuation hanging blatantly in the air as a chorus of shouts and accusations fired across the table both ways.

Lord Cras stood abruptly, his chair screeching across the marble mosaic floor.

"I will have you answer for that slander!" Lord Cras thundered; his face red and blustered and his fingers already straying dangerously to the lean sword at his hip.

Caspian tensed slightly, his gaze flickering at once to the guards who stood ready and ever vigilant; Caspian would have no brawling or swords drawn in his council chamber.

Incensed debate and disagreements were inevitable, but in the end they were all arguing for the same cause; for the good of the kingdom.

"Don't be bitter Lord Restor because you have only sons!" another shouted across the table and loud laughter rang out as Lord Restor's face paled, his eyes hardening in rage.

Caspian breathed an inaudible sigh of relief, as having seen Lord Restor quite clearly humiliated Lord Cras relinquished his previous fighting stance and dropped into his seat with a smug little grin as though he had conjured the insult himself.

And then the whole same argument began again and Caspian resisted the urge to vault from his seat and leave the accursed chambers and bickering lords behind.

The argument hinged on two points; _when_ was Caspian going to take a wife? And perhaps more importantly _who_ was Caspian going to take as a wife and by marriage make Queen of Narnia?

Caspian's gaze drifted; it was ironic really that as his councillors argued around him that most had actually forgotten his presence in the same room entirely; something Caspian had been most grateful for.

In any other council on any other matter Caspian would never be so silent but now his invisibility was a relief.

This council wasn't by far the first on the subject of Caspian's unmarried status; at first it had begun as gentle hints that he could easily brush off, prompting jokes about the length of time it was taking him but slowly impatience grew and anger bubbled as Caspian flat-out refused to marry eligible ladies from other lands that would secure beneficial alliances.

And the culmination of all those years had resulted in the loudly squabbling lords in front of him now.

Caspian knew deep down their concerns were legitimate; if tragedy would befall and some accident or other would strike him down unexpectedly Narnia would be left leaderless and vulnerable and it was not as if Caspian possessed even any distant family that could ascend to the throne.

However Caspian also knew that although the lords cared about Narnia deeply they also had more personal aspirations concerning the future of Narnia's royalty as Lord Restor had so shrewdly pointed out.

Most would beseech him to take a wife 'for the good of the realm' only for them to subsequently shove their daughters or on occasion sisters under his nose – not that the women in question needed much encouragement.

"And King Caspian will take a wife! However a decision made in haste is a decision regretted!"

The pleading exasperated tone of Nausus cut through his bitter musings and Caspian turned to give his Faun advisor a grateful nod; there were few remaining who fought in his favour on this matter.

Everyone had limits to their patience it seemed.

Caspian subtly straightened in his chair, wincing briefly at the stiffness in his shoulders at having been sat in the same position for so long; even his crown was beginning to weigh heavier with every passing moment as he struggled to keep his head erect; afterall Kings did not slump and especially not when they were meant to be chairing councils.

He looked longingly towards the windows that bright giddy sunshine streamed through invitingly.

"King Caspian has had ample time to select a bride of his choosing. He has been presented with women of high breeding, rank and class; befitting brides for any King and yet he has refused each and every one!"

Caspian frowned darkly, looking down at the Lord from his raised seat.

Lord Farzán.

'He should have known' Caspian thought grimly after he had had to refuse Lord Farzán's daughter quite publically.

"My Lords and Councillors," Caspian cut through any and all voices that rose to second Lord Farzán's opinion, "it seems to me that we waste too much time discussing this topic when there are other more pressing matters to address. What of the threat from Calormen? What measures have been taken to aid Archenland in her fight against the slave traders that have raided two villages already? What of the drought that has befallen Galma – does any of you have a report on its severity or what steps we must take to assist the Galmians?"

Caspian trailed off allowing his gaze to lie heavily on the suitably silent Lords.

"We will have the reports for you by the morn my liege," Lord Restor spoke solemnly bowing his head in acquiescence, his words signalling the closure of the discussion.

Caspian felt relief tremble through him that the dreaded council had at last ended, though from the poorly concealed dark looks not all were so elated.

However Caspian kept his expression neutral as was befitting a King. He thanked the lords and councillors for their time, assured them he would take their advice into consideration and made a vague uncomfortable promise that he would address the issues raised at his earliest convenience.

His duties done and the morning councils drawn to a close Caspian exited the chambers at as respectable a pace as he could manage. He could hear the swift hooves of Nausus shadowing him as he made his way down the hall that led to the outer gardens.

Caspian slowed, looking yearningly towards the brief glimpse of the outside world he could see before he halted waiting for Nausus to catch up; his duties as King of Narnia came first and he was grateful at least that it was Nausus and not one of the other odious lords.

"What is it Nausus? Is there some other matter you wish to discuss privately with me?" Caspian inquired politely.

Nausus hesitated for a moment, "perhaps we could walk in the gardens while we spoke?" he suggested with a small smile.

Caspian returned the smile knowingly. Nausus had been his advisor long enough now to know that Caspian without fail, escaped to the peace and tranquillity of the outside gardens after a stressful council.

They walked along the marble of the long hallway towards the grand sweeping arches that opened out onto the sprawling vista.

Caspian sighed in almost relief, a wide smile spreading across his face as the rays of welcoming sunshine fell across him, basking him in soothing warmth.

The gardens at this side of the palace were a source of sanctuary for the young King given that they maintained a level of privacy being situated high above the bustling courtyard and more public expanses below.

The upper area of the garden was bordered by carven stone balustrades swathed in verdant ivy that overlooked the lower levels of the palace below. It was an open, green space with sloping stretches of lush grass and two huge beech trees centred in each of the lawns either side; their boughs so heavy with shrouds of foliage they almost brushed the ground.

A carefully tended pathway ran around the garden's perimeter, joining to run down the centre towards a flight of stone steps that led to a secondary level that overlooked the sea and distant horizon beyond.

Most of the stonework had belonged to the original structure of Cair Paravel before its devastating destruction and when Caspian had set in motion plans to rebuild the glittering palace on the coast he ordered that as much of the foundations as possible be kept.

It made for a nice contrast to have the weathered and rough stonework from centuries before meld together with the newer structures in an amalgamation of a Narnian past and future.

They began to walk down the crunching gravelly path and at length Nausus spoke, "Your Majesty…" he began.

"Please Nausus we are no longer in council, dispense with the formalities," Caspian said, flashing Nausus a teasing friendly grin.

Nausus smiled in response, "Caspian…" he began again.

Caspian gave an acknowledging wave back to a dwarf that was diligently working on some weeds that were infiltrating the colourful flowers beds before he turned his attention back to Nausus.

Caspian frowned after a moment, his expression troubled as he saw the clear unease in Nausus from how he kept turning the silver ring on his left index finger with his right hand and how he glowered at the ground.

"Nausus?" Caspian prompted expectantly.

Nausus' gaze snapped up immediately apologetic as it alighted on Caspian and Caspian sighed despairingly.

"Not you too Nausus!" Caspian bemoaned, halting suddenly.

"Caspian you know I do not want to force you into a marriage…"

"But you are!" Caspian interrupted bitterly.

The Faun looked immediately regretful, "I assure you I am not," Nausus enforced.

Caspian didn't reply as they walked along the path, a disgruntled expression still on his face.

Why did Nausus have to ruin what was mean to be a calming walk after the council by bringing up that blasted topic again?!

"Caspian – ?" Nausus ventured cautiously again and with a heavy sigh and a resigned eye roll Caspian nodded minutely giving Nausus his sought leave to continue.

"Impatience is rife amongst most nobles for you to choose a wife; even the ladies of the court wish to have a female monarch to look to; a kingdom needs a queen to fulfil her duties as much as it needs a king," Nausus urged gently.

Caspian frowned slightly, "I know all this Nausus," he replied tiredly.

Nausus nodded eagerly, "of course and I didn't mean to waste your time insulting your intelligence by reiterating things you already know," Nausus rushed apologetically, "however…"

Caspian cast his advisor a side-long look, thinking that Nausus suddenly looked very ominous.

The Faun's steps slowed even further, as he fiddled with his wedding ring on his finger again, his usually cheerful blue eyes pensive.

"To appease the impatience of your court…plans to stage a grand tournament in your name as a celebration of your birthday have been put into motion," Nausus finished looking to Caspian.

Caspian halted suddenly, " – in my name?!" he echoed.

Nausus nodded.

A tournament – a king's tournament – a tournament in _his _name meant only one thing; every eligible lady from lands far and wide would be flocking to Cair Paravel.

Caspian closed his eyes for a brief moment's respite, "dare I ask who suggested this?" he intoned frigidly.

"Lord Farzán," Nausus answered and the two exchanged a knowing look.

"That man is becoming far too forceful in his dealings," Caspian mused concernedly, wondering briefly how Lord Farzán could have organised such a spectacle without the King's consent and then begrudgingly considered that it wasn't that difficult. All Lord Farzán had to do was present the council with plans to throw a _'surprise tournament in our King's honour for the celebration of his birth'_.

What loyal councillor would refuse such an innocent offer to celebrate their king's birth? -

Caspian's frown deepened further as his thoughts drifted to Lord Farzán.

Caspian had had no reason to suspect the man of disloyalty and Lord Farzán had never seemed to want to displace Caspian from his throne...initially.

However bad blood lingered between the two from when Caspian had refused Lord Farzán's daughter; Caspian imagined that Lord Farzán had been grievously wounded by what he considered an insult to his family; he was afterall a fellow Telmarine – who now lived at peace with the Narnians but all the same he had somehow expected Caspian to honour old allegiances.

And from then every opportunity that presented itself Lord Farzán worked ceaselessly to expose Caspian's shortcomings and failings.

"What do you expect Lord Farzán hopes to achieve with this tournament? – You have already refused his daughter, naught can change that?" Nausus disturbed Caspian's silent musings.

"I suspect it has little to do with his daughter anymore. He wishes to subject me to the council's displeasure when I once more fail to take a wife at this tournament," Caspian said grimly.

"Then I wish heartily I had of done more to prevent it from taking place," Nausus said sincerely.

"There's nothing to be done about it now; if I try and prevent it I will be seen as ungrateful and no doubt offend many nobles," Caspian said wearily as they reached the end of the centre pathway to overlook the wide veranda below them; the secondary level of the gardens that provided an unprecedented complete view of the sea that stretched endlessly into the distant horizon.

Caspian glanced and saw the reclining figure beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree on the veranda and a fond smile graced his lips in recognition.

He turned to Nausus once more, "I wish you had of told me sooner though Nausus," Caspian admonished gently, the prospect of this looming tournament darkening his thoughts once more.

Nausus immediately looked horrified, "but Sire I had no knowledge of it until yesterday when the last council on the matter was called," he exclaimed animatedly.

Caspian clasped Nausus' shoulder with a brief look of grim understanding, "peace Nausus!" he called to halt the other's wild panic, "I suspect that was on purpose as well; Farzán knows how loyal you are."

Nausus smiled in relief, clearly placated, "the others are loyal as well Your Majesty," the Faun began encouragingly.

"I know you're right," Caspian replied, "they are only doing what they think is best; they have no ulterior motives unlike others perhaps to see me fail."

Nausus nodded dourly, wishing the other councillors could have more patience with their young king.

"Well Nausus I believe after the morning we've had we deserve some respite – go and enjoy the sunshine with your wife and son," Caspian commanded grinning; there were still some orders it gave him joy to dispense.

The Faun looked pleasantly surprised, "wouldn't you like to know the particulars of the upcoming tournament planned?" Nausus inquired.

Caspian grimaced briefly at its mention, "we can leave it until later," Caspian said firmly, sharing a wry smirk with Nausus.

"Thank-you Caspian," Nausus said, bowing low despite the friendly address, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

Caspian watched Nausus trot back down the path, a jaunty spring in his step at the prospect of enjoying the day with his family.

Caspian swallowed thickly;_ family?_

Pushing away the longing twinge in his heart Caspian turned and swiftly descended the stone steps that had long been bleached white by the sun.

He made his way across the veranda, glancing out briefly at the rolling blue waves of the sea beyond, each crest sparkling as the sunshine caught it as though a thousand tiny gems had been cast into the white foamed surf.

A stiff sea breeze that held the bite of salt ruffled his dark hair as he reached the figure still resting beneath the cherry blossom tree.

Professor Cornelius looked up as Caspian's shadow fell across the book in his hands, a smile immediately springing to his old tutor's face.

"I thought you were meant to be resting?" Caspian inquired sternly, trying to keep the mischievous smirk from pulling at his lips.

"Even with my dwarven blood there is only so much time I can spend cooped up behind four stone walls my king," Professor Cornelius answered, his eyes dancing with mirth.

Then they both laughed as Caspian felt the tension and irritation that lingered from the council still evaporate like early morning mist before the sun.

Caspian dropped himself carelessly down on the grass beside his old professor, casting an amused and pointed glance towards the simple serving tray resting nearby.

There was the familiar earthenware pot with its Dwarven runes etched on to it and an entirely incongruous dainty porcelain cup sat beside it on the tray. Beside that was a long curving pipe, the stem worn thin with use, a small leather pouch which Caspian knew contained the foul smelling stuff the Professor would use to fill his pipe with and then there was a rather large plate of delicious looking honey-seed cakes.

Caspian frowned at the latter of these items as he swiped a honey-seed cake from the plate, taking a rather large bite.

"I thought the healer said no rich foods to allow your stomach time to recuperate?" Caspian mumbled around a mouthful of honey-seed cake.

Professor Cornelius peered over his wire-rimmed spectacles at Caspian, "very kingly," he commented teasingly.

Caspian smirked swallowing the rest of the cake, looking to the Professor expectantly.

"Young King you forget I sat at your bedside reading to you when you had made yourself ill gorging on honey-seed cakes as a young boy," Professor Cornelius huffed impertinently and Caspian grinned shaking his head in fond amusement as he looked slightly apologetic.

Professor Cornelius smirked knowingly, "one honey-seed cake will not kill me," he muttered, closing his book to set it on the warm grass beside him.

Caspian grinned and tilted his head to the side curiously to better read the title of the richly bound book as the Professor reached for his pipe and leather pouch.

"It is an account by the winged horse Fledge, penned by Queen Helen herself," Professor Cornelius explained as he tamped down the bowl of his pipe.

Caspian rolled onto his stomach, reaching for the book to flick through it deferentially, "really?" Caspian said in awed reverence as he ran his fingertips along the much worn spine with its faded golden script.

"Fledge was the first flying horse Aslan created. He allowed Digory and Polly to ride him; I'm surprised you don't remember – it used to be one of your favourite tales," Professor Cornelius' said.

"I do remember," Caspian answered, "I just didn't think anything so old still existed today."

"The Narnians held the book very precious to them for its content as well as its scribe; Queen Helen was a much beloved queen. So they harboured the book safely through the ages," Professor Cornelius explained as he puffed out a ring of blue-grey smoke.

Caspian wrinkled his nose in distaste as the smoke ring vanished with a wisp into the fragrant air and Professor Cornelius gave a rumbling laugh, his smile hidden behind his bushy white beard.

"You young sensitive ones," he teased as Caspian set the book down once more with a smirk.

Rolling onto his back Caspian placed his hands behind his head gazing up.

The cherry blossoms were like a blush stained white cloud hovering above him; their sweet scent drifting along the breeze and he could glimpse a strip of clear blue sky between the bountiful boughs…_blue like her eyes._

Caspian's eyes fluttered shut as he hung onto the brief image for a little longer.

Then Caspian sighed; peaceful moments to remember like these were hard to come by since he had become King for all too soon other matters began to crowd into his inner silence; such was the burden of being a King.

He knew that he could not put off the urgings of the council indefinitely, could not distract them all the time with other problems or appease them forever with half-hearted promises.

And Caspian being a good King knew that the best thing for Narnia…was to take a wife and give the kingdom an heir to celebrate.

"I bet I can guess what this morning's council entailed…"

Caspian smiled inwardly as the Professor's voice sounded near him, the tone cautiously playful, but Caspian knew the deep concern that would be reflected behind the wire-rimmed spectacles.

"You know everything," Caspian replied easily as he would have done as a young boy, hoping to delay the inevitable.

The Professor made a 'harrumph' sound as he shifted and Caspian opened an eye to peek up at him.

The Professor chewed contemplatively on the end of his pipe but his knowing yet gentle eyes were trained on Caspian.

Caspian shut his eye again; he did not know if he could bear the Professor's gentle sympathy yet stern unyielding words today.

He wanted to enjoy the memories in silence; the memory of eyes as bright and blue as Narnia's skies, of shadowy hair brushing against his cheek and a kiss that had seared his heart and mind alike.

The Professor understood the mood Caspian was in and sighing resignedly, he decided to indulge him today.

Caspian might not have been the young boy he once was anymore but to Professor Cornelius he would always be the inquisitive little imp that had gazed up at him with wide dark eyes before piping up and asking him 'why are you so short?' Professor Cornelius wouldn't have taken offence only Caspian had barely been able to reach his waist at the time.

"I heard a few mermaids were singing down by the cove not so long ago," Professor Cornelius conversed casually, gazing out towards the horizon.

"Really?" Caspian hummed distractedly, his eyes still shut, his long legs outstretched, "I remember waking to them singing on the Dawn Treader."

"Not many Kings can say they sailed to the very edge of Aslan's country and returned," Professor Cornelius said with gruff pride in his voice.

Caspian chuckled lightly, his eyes fluttering open to reveal a forlorn light in his dark eyes.

"Your father would be very proud of all that you have achieved," Professor Cornelius said quietly and Caspian glanced up at him, a rueful smile on his lips.

The Professor since he was a little boy could always tell what was on his mind, even when he was trying to hide it.

"I wish he were here now," Caspian confessed in a small voice, "I could use his advice."

Professor Cornelius' bushy white eyebrows knitted together in consternation, in his eyes shone a sympathetic light as he leaned across to pat Caspian's shoulder with a weathered hand.

"I am afraid to say I cannot offer advice on matters of the heart my King, but I can listen," Professor Cornelius offered sincerely.

Caspian smiled fleetingly in thanks before his expression sobered, "how can I even begin to contemplate marrying another when I'm already in love with her?"

Professor Cornelius furrowed his brow in deep thought as he took a long contemplative draw from his pipe; he of course knew who Caspian spoke of without him having to name her.

"I would have nothing to give to a wife – everything I am already belongs to her," Caspian said emphatically.

"You would have an heir to provide," Professor Cornelius advised seriously.

Caspian frowned darkly, "a child born of a loveless union?"

"It would not be the first and unfortunately not the last. Those born into a noble life do not always have the luxury of love," Professor Cornelius said gently yet firmly.

Caspian exhaled noisily, throwing an arm carelessly over his troubled eyes, "the idea of marrying someone - _anyone_ else feels impossible," Caspian murmured earnestly.

"Perhaps at first," Professor Cornelius began to reason when Caspian sat up abruptly, shaking his dark head irritably.

"I have had this from my councillors all morning Professor - I do not want to hear it from you as well!" Caspian said heatedly, holding up a hand to stall the Professor's words.

The Professor clenched his teeth around the stem of his pipe, puffing out rings of smoke at an alarming rate as he watched the tense rigid line of Caspian's shoulders against the horizon.

But then Professor Cornelius felt the same pitying exasperation weigh heavy in his heart as he saw the proud head before him bend and a quiet exhale pass from wearied lips.

"I do not mean to distress you my boy," the Professor ventured gently, the term of endearment slipping by without notice.

Caspian's neck turned slightly, lengths of dark hair brushing his shoulder as his eyes met the Professor's for a brief moment.

"I know you only meant well," Caspian said gently, "and I'm sorry I was sharp with you. I value your judgement and trust you implicitly."

Professor Cornelius waved the apology away with the stem of his pipe, "none of us have flawless judgement my boy, except save Aslan himself."

"I wish I knew why she cannot return to Narnia?" Caspian sighed wistfully, his gaze trained upon the vista before him; of the bright golden orb of the sun that blazed high in the blue of the sky that harboured not a single pillow of white.

_To the radiant Southern Sun…Queen Susan the Gentle._

"It is not for us to question Aslan," the Professor grumbled sternly, his brow puckering into a frown.

"I do not question Aslan – I just wish I understood _why_?" Caspian confessed.

"Time will bring understanding – and with it acceptance," Professor Cornelius assured in soothing tones.

"I do not wish to accept…" Caspian began resolutely when the Professor cut across him firmly, his patience frayed at seeing the young King he loved so well distressed.

"And what good does your stubbornness yield you? Hmm?" The Professor inhaled a deep rallying breath, his blue eyes flashing like lightning, his voice admonishing, "Queen Susan will _never _return to Narnia my King; to cling to such an impossible hope will bring only heartbreak and the end of your line!"

King Caspian leapt to his feet, stalking across the greensward to the stone balustrade digging his fingers into the unforgiving rock, old Cair Paravel remnants where once _her _pale hands may have rested as she beheld the same dauntless horizon he did now.

He had sailed into the unknown Eastern seas, to the end of the world, the very edge of Aslan's country but no ship would bear him to her. She was out of his reach.

His anger at Professor Cornelius' stern words faded; the Professor had been his guardian long enough for Caspian's keen eyes to immediately see the care-worn crevices and lines creasing the old man's face when he turned, to see the concern etched deeply into the wise eyes and know that harsh words were born out of the most tender care the Professor harboured for a boy he had essentially raised since childhood.

"They say Queen Susan's bow never missed," Professor Cornelius mused aloud, a sad note to the usually merry if gruff song of his voice.

"And I fear her arrow may never leave my heart," Caspian finished quietly, his chin dipped to his chest.

* * *

Well, what do you think?! Reviews, criticism – all feedback is much appreciated and listened to.

I already have the next few chapters written up and all, I just need to proof-read them again so feel free to let me know if I should continue?

I know it's also meant to be 'Doctor' Cornelius but I decided to go with movie-verse for that one.

And I know the first chapter wasn't really that eventful but I hope it wasn't too much of a chore to read.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter II**

"Have you been able to locate the whereabouts of our King?"

"I regret to say I have not Lord Cras," Nausus replied remorsefully, extending his hands wide in a hopeless gesture, "was the matter for which you sought the King of great importance?"

Lord Cras' face furrowed deeply as he gritted his teeth, keen grey eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Lady Eldra and her two daughters from the Northern city of Darn have been spotted within sight of the palace. It is the King's place to ride out and welcome such honoured guests," Lord Cras explained bitterly.

Nausus nodded emphatically, his eyes wide with understanding, "another Lord would fulfil the duty competently. I'm sure King Caspian himself would agree – perhaps you Lord Cras could ride out to welcome the Lady Eldra and her company?"

Lord Cras' eyes widened in shocked surprise at the suggestion, his jaw working slackly for a few moments yet no speech being produced.

"It is meant to be the King's duty to welcome guests of high ranking to Cair Paravel personally!" Lord Cras finally exclaimed, as he appeared quite flustered.

Nausus gave him a sympathetic smile, "of course you are right Lord Cras but as I have explained King Caspian is yet to be found and we would not want to cause offense by sending no one to greet Lady Eldra?"

Lord Cras ground his teeth together in irritation, as he stared down formidably at the serenely composed Faun.

"Very well," Lord Cras eventually relented, schooling his face into a grim mask of begrudging acceptance, "I will ride out to welcome the Lady Eldra, her daughters and company," Lord Cras finished stiffly, before turning sharply with not even a courteous word of farewell he marched down the hall, already barking orders to his following squire.

Nausus sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a brief moment. After having collected himself, and after casting a surreptitious glance about the empty hallway, he made his way over to one of the tapestries.

"As your advisor my King, I must tell you that I do not appreciate being put in such a position as that," Nausus said miserably, his eyes troubled as he twisted his silver ring.

A quiet exhale sounded before the richly coloured tapestry rippled and was pulled aside revealing a shadowed alcove in which sat a sulking King Caspian.

"And as your friend I apologise for placing you so," Caspian answered, looking to Nausus contritely, before standing and stretching the young King stepped out of the alcove into the bright sunshine of the hallway.

Nausus still looked discomfited about his recent actions as he loitered and Caspian looked to his advisor.

"I am truly sorry Nausus but I cannot say I am not most grateful for what you did even if dishonesty in a King is an abhorrent trait," Caspian said with a slight quirk of his lips.

Nausus looked slightly eased as he managed a small smile in return, "it was _I _ who was dishonest," he corrected resolutely, "though I cannot say Lord Cras believed me," he added worriedly.

Caspian grinned widely, "I have no doubt that he didn't; your face is too honest Nausus!" Caspian teased, laughing at his advisor's torn expression of horror that he had not fooled Lord Cras and being pleased that he was evidently considered a truthful Faun.

"Well, I…" Nausus began when there was a high gaggle of distant feminine laughter.

Both King and Advisor turned their heads, to gaze down the hall as a trio of ladies – clearly noblewomen by their dress – appeared.

They walked sedately down the hall, talking animatedly with wide bright eyes, the skirts of their dresses whispering against the marble floors; they had yet to notice the young King and his advisor loitering at the great tapestry.

Caspian grimaced; and they weren't going to notice either, he thought resolutely, grasping Nausus' elbow firmly, he yanked his advisor behind the tapestry and into the cramped alcove.

Even in the gloom afforded by the translucent light that filtered through the tapestry Caspian could see the vastly disapproving look on Nausus' face.

Caspian looked to him apologetically with desperate pleading eyes.

His reaction was a little dramatic Caspian granted. But for the past three weeks since Nausus had told him of the dreaded birthday tournament Caspian had been on beck and call to the visitors that had begun to trickle in; from the riding out to welcome them personally to Cair Paravel for _'his' _tournament to the subsequent feasts in their honour that was necessitated when new nobles arrived.

There had been the arrival of the contingent from the Lone Islands containing at least a score of noble ladies from proud time-honoured houses with their numerous daughters and mild-mannered husbands who had merely looked to Caspian in amused sympathy as he was overwhelmed by the hoard of gracious women.

A similar company from Archenland had arrived a few days after that with the proud Archenland princesses travelling with a personal guard of over three-score soldiers which Caspian found to be excessive. The land they travelled over was Narnian and held no threat to them, the only need for such a show of force was for their own vanity. It made Caspian pale in angered contemplation as he considered the villages in Archenland now left defenceless against the raiders just to satisfy the Archenland royalty's egotism.

But he was not King of Archenland and Caspian could only advise the ageing King of Archenland, King Avrain who had travelled with his daughters to send home some of his guards to Archenland to be distributed along their weakened borders. There was no need for them here within the very walls of Cair Paravel that was already protected by Narnian soldiers. But, only confirming Caspian's suspicions King Avrain had brushed off the suggestion, seeming almost affronted that someone as young and _'inexperienced' _as Caspian would advise him on how to handle his soldiers.

Caspian had made repeated requests to assemble councils both on Galma's drought and the slave trader raids in Archenland with the accompanying dignitaries but his attempts had been thwarted on both occasions.

King Avrain seemed reluctant to accept any aid, insisting that there was no problem that Archenland had the situation well under control. Caspian suspected King Avrain did not want to accept help from a King younger than his own sons.

The Galmians however seemed eager and willing to welcome Narnia's help. The Galmian drought was temporarily being managed by the fellow Lone Islands. Caspian did not like relying on the provisional method of help, and was keen to sit down and draw up a more substantial and thorough resolution to the issue with the Galmian lords, however the halting force particularly could be centred on one source; Lord Farzán. He was quick to remind them all that this was meant to be a 'tournament of fun and games' and that the drought was being successfully managed for now that any serious discussions could wait until after the tournament.

All in all the past three weeks had left Caspian frustrated as no further progress was made on meaningful issues and his patience was being sorely stretched by having to repeat the same pleasantries over and over again to smiling princesses and ladies alike.

Hence Caspian's desperate wish to have one morning free of welcoming nobles, of having repeated and meaningless conversations and of having to appear overjoyed every single time. And his desperation had led to some very un-kingly behaviour such as hiding all morning from his councillors, having his advisors lie in his stead and ducking behind tapestries to avoid noble guests.

Presently the three ladies seemed to be passing the very tapestry Nausus and Caspian were hiding behind with abated breath, their airy voices placing them from the Lone Islands.

"The tournament is just going to be the most wonderful spectacle…since – since: since forever!" the young voice of a girl rose in excited, giddy crests to be met with the amused chuckles of her companions.

Caspian gave an absent smile as he heard it; at least someone was sure to enjoy his birthday tournament he thought fleetingly.

"And what gift are you giving the king for his birthday Alia?" an older girl's voice sounded; the baiting tone evident and Caspian almost groaned as he heard them evidently pause almost directly outside their very tapestry; the soft scuffing sound of silk slippers across marble floors falling silent.

It would be just his luck Caspian bemoaned inwardly; perhaps this was punishment – that his truant morning would be spent in a cramped alcove behind a dusty tapestry with his increasingly displeased advisor.

The younger girl spluttered for a moment in panic, "but…but I thought my father – our House; but…you mean _I_ personally have to present the King with a gift?" the younger girl sounded almost close to tears.

The crystal laughter of the girl's two companions sounded richly, "do not tease the child so Caitra!" a new voice sounded; the voice of the third companion Caspian supposed, wishing fervently that they would continue on so that he could relieve his cramped knees. Nausus looked to him, his face paling and Caspian furrowed his brow; this would not be a position he would like to be caught in – a King hiding from women.

"Nay Alia, your father will present the King with a gift from your House. There is no need for you to fret," the third voice continued soothingly and a pitiful sniffle could be heard, "that was cruel Caitra!" the young voice, Alia – Caspian assumed, cried indignantly.

"Do not be so gullible then," the voice Caspian now associated with the name Caitra chided firmly.

"Caitra," the third voice sounded again, warningly.

Caspian tried to shift minutely while Nausus looked close to whimpering aloud; when on earth were these women going to continue on their way?!

An exasperated sigh was expelled that captured Caspian's own emotions quite perfectly, the young King thought with bitterness.

"You think you are doing the child a favour Celesyn by allowing her to remain so naïve?" Caitra, Caspian identified immediately.

"Naïve?! I'm not naïve!" Alia's protest sounded vehemently.

"Caitra there is no need to pursue this conversation," – the soothing voice; Celesyn – it had to be, Caspian reasoned, while Nausus' face contorted into an angered frown – well as angry as the normally serene and docile Faun could.

"I only want to protect her – the child still believes this banquet is all about fun, games and the King's birthday!" Caitra's voice raised scathingly, the condescension almost palpable, but her words made Caspian focus.

"Stop calling me a _child_!" another ignored protest from Alia.

"And why shouldn't it be about that for her?" Celesyn demanded.

"We all know what this banquet is truly about Celesyn; King Caspian must take a wife."

Caspian closed his eyes briefly wishing all his guests could be as innocent and gullible as sweet Alia, rather than shrewd and cruel like Caitra.

Opening his eyes Caspian considered perhaps he was being too harsh; he could not base his entire opinion on a person's character on the words of an eavesdropped conversation.

He only wished the conversation would end soon and the by look on Nausus' face told him the Faun was thinking the same.

"King Caspian is going to get married?! – A royal wedding, a King's birthday and a tournament! Who is the lady that is to be queen?!" Alia's voice rose high in excitement once more and Caspian almost smiled as he mentally noted that he would have to seek out Alia of The Lone Islands at the banquet if only to tell her not to listen to Caitra and to remain as gullible as she liked.

A bright peal of laughter rang out – Caitra.

"There is no lady, Alia," a softer voice explained – Celesyn.

"King Caspian will never wed!" Caitra declared contemptuously and Caspian stiffened.

"Why?!" Alia cried almost simultaneously with Celesyn's admonishing cry of "Caitra!"

"The King will never marry for his heart has already been taken!" Caitra announced with an almost vicious delight as though she were enjoying telling the tale, and it seemed to be a fair assumption based on the dramatics that accompanied her narrative including the lengthy tensed pauses.

A weary sigh sounded that Caspian assumed could only belong to Celesyn as he could practically count Alia's panicked anticipated breaths in the dramatic quiet.

"His heart was stolen by the Queen of Old and Legend; Queen Susan the Gentle of the radiant Southern Sun!"

Caspian released a heavy sigh, momentarily forgetting that he and Nausus were meant to be invisible but the quiet sound of fatigue and exasperation were drowned out by Alia's cries.

"That is enough!" Celesyn asserted in no uncertain terms, "Alia go on to our rooms," Celesyn ordered.

There was a whining huff and then Nausus and Caspian exchanged relieved glances as the quick scamper of receding footsteps could be heard.

But there relief was suspended shortly.

"Was that really necessary Caitra; the last thing we need is for the child to blurt it out in the face of the King!"

Caspian grimaced in complete agreement with Celesyn on that point.

There was a derisive scoff in response, "please Celesyn - it is well known that the King's heart belongs to the Gentle Queen; I was there the day the Queens and Kings of Old left Narnia. I witnessed their last minutes together – Am I now to be scolded for teaching your slow-witted cousin lessons which are known by even the lowliest kitchen-hand?"

"I hardly call spreading gossip to deserve the title of 'lessons'" Celesyn bit back sharply, "but no it is not the gossip you shared Caitra, but rather the manner in which you imparted it with my cousin that I take issue with. Alia is still only a child and she has done nothing to deserve your contempt or your cruelty."

There was a cynical exhale of air and then suddenly the soft whisper of silk slippers moving swiftly.

"I make no apology for my words Celesyn, only allow me to divulge to you a piece of advice; if you think _my_ words cruel, I dread to see your reaction to the rest of the noblewomen here. Countless women have travelled further than we with one goal in mine; to become Queen of Narnia and your innocent little air-head cousin will be completely out of her depth." The words sounded from further down the hall and the footsteps were fast disappearing, Celesyn's reply nothing more than a murmur that Caspian couldn't make out.

Silence dominated for a few moments and Nausus chanced a peek around the tapestry before he heaved a loud sigh of relief, "thank Aslan – they're gone!" he exclaimed.

They stepped out onto the hallway once more; Nausus looking almost ready to faint.

The Faun turned to the King sharply, "your Majesty I must insist that anything like that never happens again!" Nausus demanded shrilly.

However the Faun's expression softened immediately as he saw the troubled frown and forlorn look haunting Caspian's face.

"Once more I am truly sorry Nausus," Caspian apologised again, attempting a gracious smile that was a poor replica, "it seems I am no use to anyone this morning," the young king said quietly, his tone despondent, "I will be in my chambers," Caspian added over his shoulder, already moving away.

Nausus' hand shot out in the last moment to stall him.

Caspian turned expectantly to be met with Nausus compassionate blue eyes, "I am sorry that their words upset you Caspian," Nausus said gently.

Caspian gave him a grateful smile that failed to reach his eyes as he shrugged with a forced casual air, "they only spoke the truth afterall."

Nausus watched the young regent walk with sure strides down the hall, shoulders held proudly because kings couldn't let their burdens show. However the dark head upon which glinted the gold crown dipped just fractionally lower.

* * *

Caspian made his way swiftly to his own chambers, hoping fervently that he would not happen across any more noble ladies or demanding lords.

Breathing out a grateful sigh Caspian reached the doors to his royal compartments with haste and uninterrupted and with a few murmured words he instructed the sentry that stood guard at his rooms at all times to gently deter any potential visitors.

"Only if absolutely necessary am I to be disturbed," Caspian enforced and the sentry nodded vigorously; no matter how much he may wish to be alone he was King of Narnia first and foremost.

With a brief quirk of his lips in thanks Caspian disappeared inside his chambers, sighing heavily.

He mentally noted he would have to seek out the Lady Eldra and her daughters tomorrow evening at the welcoming feast to apologise personally that he did not ride out to welcome them.

As he passed a table Caspian deposited his crown on the shining mahogany with a muted 'thump'. Ever more recently the burnishing gold crown with its numerous inlaid gemstones had begun to weigh heavier.

It wasn't the crown that weighed heavier Caspian realised bitterly as he walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the sea from his chambers; but the responsibilities that came with it.

Five years ago when he had taken to the throne Caspian had been a boy, unsure of his abilities to lead and to rule and afraid that he would fail those who relied on him. He had had no kindly relatives to turn to for advice though with an absent smile Caspian amended when he thought of the staunch support the Professor had provided over the years and of his good friend Lord Drinian.

Caspian was able to push the heartbreak away at the beginning, to throw himself into his duties in rebuilding a Narnia for all creatures; human and not alike and to fend off Narnia's enemies.

There had been much work to do and during long campaigns into the Northern Lands he could harbour his love like a bright beacon of light and hope that spurred him on to restore Narnia to its days of glory when she who he loved had ruled alongside her siblings.

He could almost imagine that she waited for him back at Cair Paravel like many of the wives of the soldiers who rode with him were.

Perhaps her eyes would scan the distant undulating hills for signs of the banners of the victorious King returning home as she waited in worry and impatience, thinking of the token she had sent with him.

Indeed it seemed almost believable as the ivory white of Susan's horn gleamed softly in the moonlight at his hip; a faithful and constant reminder.

But the bittersweet illusion was shattered the moment he returned to Cair Paravel; silver trumpets would herald their coming and the families of the soldiers would stream into the courtyard.

Weary, injured soldiers would suddenly leap of their steeds and sweep up their tearful wives in passionate embraces.

Caspian would dismount slowly for she wasn't here.

There would be no Susan to run out into the courtyard; she would be dignified and composed – a pinnacle for the ladies of court to look up to, but her eyes would burn brightly, scanning the melee for the familiar dark head of hair.

She would run to him then and he would catch her in his arms, burying his face against her silken tresses that soothed away the bloodied months of battle, her eyes would shine like two fragments of Narnia's skies captured within ebony lashes and he would know then that he was home.

But each time there was no such welcome waiting for him; no warm arms or ardent kisses and each time his heart would weigh a little heavier.

Years of diplomacy, of keeping his emotions and thoughts composed in the most trying of circumstances had slowly faded the lovesick eyes, the whimsical smile that would spread as he thought of her.

But the emotions burned as brightly as they had five years ago and now…now his council, his kingdom expected him to give them up and marry another.

Caspian expelled a heavy sigh, resting his calloused hands on the old stone balustrades from the old Cair Paravel.

Years of weapon-training had honed the protective calluses on his long-fingered hands and so too had the years callused his heart; so that when he heard her name he maintained the composed expression he had been taught or when his breath caught in his throat at the flash of dark hair and bright blue eyes he was able to coldly chastise himself that it couldn't possibly be her; she was another world away.

Caspian allowed his dark eyes to trace the cresting waves against the horizon in the distance, trying to find peace in the soothing motion, to recall the serene acceptance he had felt when he had sailed through the sweet waters to the edge of the world and Aslan's country.

But flexing his fingers against the weathered stone Caspian reminded himself, scolded himself – there would be no peace amongst his council or his kingdom until he had married and provided Narnia with an heir.

It felt strange Caspian mused that despite the little time he and Susan had had with one another he felt that he was almost betraying her now.

He had loved her with a boy's heart five years ago; entranced by the beauty of this queen of legend, her fabled skill with bow and arrow. But as he matured so too did his heart and the love it bore for Queen Susan matured with it.

As a young insolent boy raised by his cruel and proud uncle he had once thought Queen Susan weak as Professor Cornelius told him tales of the Gentle Queen, but he remembered how sorely wrong he was. He was awed by her fierceness in battle, her selflessness as she willingly sacrificed herself to save her sister. He saw beyond the beauty that had captured the hearts of countless knights during the Golden Ages.

The sea could offer him no peace today Caspian relented wearily as he turned back to go into his chambers. He passed through the general rooms where he held private councils and things towards his bedchamber.

His eyes briefly alighted on the grand oil painting that covered an entire panel, and the displayed and revered weapons that rested on their intricately carved pedestals before it.

It was of the Kings and Queens of Old; the Pevensies – Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy; as close to a family as he had known.

Lucy's cordial winked brightly caught in the noonday sun, her dagger resting beside it. Caspian grinned briefly thinking of the Valiant Queen he loved as a sister and of her elder brothers Edmund and Peter who despite their initial differences he loved fiercely like brothers.

Susan's bow rested lightly on its own, the brilliant crimson fletches of her arrows undulled by time.

Caspian liked to use the gifts of those he considered family; liked to imagine that they somehow guided him as he used Peter's sword or Lucy's cordial. However he never used Susan's bow for it had been made specifically for the Gentle Queen; the wood lighter and slightly shorter in stature to suit a more feminine frame.

Caspian passed through to his bedchamber, loosening the leather ties on his tunic to relax the ornate collar that had been inlaid with threaded gold.

He didn't need to look at the oil painting to be able to recall every detail, much like the one Caspian had commissioned to be painted in the throne room; and below which rested the four crowns of the monarchs on velvet cushions in a place of honoured remembrance.

Caspian collapsed gratefully onto the covers of his bed, his dark hair splaying across the silken pillowcases as he gazed above him unseeingly.

In his mind he saw the empty throne that had sat beside his unfilled for five years. He tried to imagine another sitting in it; another who was not Susan.

Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes Caspian breathed out heavily; it was impossible.

How could the council expect him to marry?

As Caitra had so crudely pointed out – everyone down to the lowliest kitchen-hand knew that their King's heart belonged to a Queen of legend who lay a world away and who could never return.

Many of those in his council were lords who had chosen to stay when Aslan had given them the choice five years ago.

They had seen Susan at the last moment stride back to him purposefully. Caspian remembered how his heart had stuttered, coherent thoughts fled as she stood before him; her eyes filled with determination. Caspian remembered wishing fervently that she wouldn't speak for whatever words of goodbye she would give him could never be enough and he would never let her go. He had prepared himself for her leaving as best he could, but if she spoke to him now every scrap of willpower it was taking for him to stand by and let her leave would be crumble before her like dust.

But she had offered him no more words, but pressed her lips to his in a kiss he would remember to his dying breath and beyond and the strange thing was that in her kiss she had given him the strength to let her go as was Aslan's will.

Caspian sighed, drawing a weary hand across his temples, the silk coverlet on his bed whispering with his movements.

It had been so long since he had had time and privacy enough to dwell on such memories for though Susan was always in his mind he could not in good conscious allow his thoughts to linger on pleasant memories.

In the middle of a war council discussing the recent budding threat of Calormen Caspian could not indulge himself in imagining how the sun streaming through the council chamber's high windows would look as it caught the richness of her hair.

For Caspian was as Susan herself had predicted with the utmost confidence – a great King; always putting his duties as King of Narnia before his own desires.

Wasn't that why he had turned his back on joining his own father that he had mourned and missed bitterly over the long years at the end of the world? For to do so would be as good as deserting Narnia, absconding the throne the Narnians had fought so hard to win him. It was not what a good king would do and so Caspian had stayed, to reign as King and lead the people of Narnia who had seen fit to place their trust in him.

And now his people demanded he choose a queen; his councillors' patience was at its last tether, even Professor Cornelius had been throwing less subtle jabs over the passing months. Though Caspian knew the Professor and even Nausus' gentle nudges were in the hope that in choosing a bride Caspian may heal enough and find happiness and love once more in another.

But the passage of time providing the further authenticating that Susan's absence from Narnia was permanent did nothing to make Caspian warm any further to the idea.

'Time had passed – five years in fact' Caspian's thoughts reminded him and he recalled Professor Cornelius' words; _those born into a noble life do not always have the luxury of love._

With a heavy heart Caspian realised that the Professor, Nausus, even his councillors were right; the time was nigh – he had to choose a wife.

The threat from Calormen was growing, if war – though may Aslan forbid it Caspian prayed thinking of the soldiers who would fall if such a catastrophe would occur – however if war was inevitable there was a chance that Caspian could fall in battle and Narnia's throne would be barren.

Narnia needed an heir.

And so Caspian needed to choose a wife; loveless union or not.

* * *

So…a lot of CaspianAngst! – I'm very cruel when it comes to writing heartbreak.

Many thanks to GothGirl1996, HungerGamesQueen100 and Contrary To Popular Belief for the favourites / &amp; / follows.

Especial thanks to those who reviewed also!

writeagain; thank-you; 1st review! I hope it lives up the expectations of a promising story then.

Just Me; thank-you! Yes I was awfully cruel to Caspian wasn't I? I'm not sure this chapter was much better for the poor lad though.

GothGirl1996; thank-you! Erm…you see, I have a loose plot in my head that could go either of two ways at the moment and I haven't decided which will work better yet; so for now…don't cross anything out *mysterious grin*

wildhorses1492; thank-you! I'm really glad that you thought it came across as authentic; that was a big concern of mine!

sarahwood; thank-you! Here you go: next chapter! – I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first.


	3. Chapter 3

A massive thank-you to my beta Silver Fletcher who is infinitely patient with all my silly mistakes; this chapter is for you!

**Also!** – A/N – I have introduced Lord Drinian into this fic in this chapter; he is OOC I know. I was considering just re-naming him as an original OC but decided to keep him as Drinian; I hope that doesn't greatly upset anyone. Also I have taken his description, "a dark-haired man" from the book rather than movie rendition.

* * *

**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter III**

The bitter resolution to choose a wife did nothing to ease Caspian's mind or lighten the burden of his heart.

Swift agitation rose in an irked spike in the young King, as Caspian sat up suddenly, swinging his long legs over the bed. His shoulders were hunched with tension as his hands clasped the linens on either side of him.

His thoughts were needless to say dwelling on the tournament that would now officially begin tomorrow with the welcoming feast that evening. The tournament to celebrate his birthday and at which he was meant to become betrothed; Caspian stood up abruptly, stalking over to the battered trunk at one side of his room.

He hunkered down as he lifted the studded lid, already rummaging through the contents.

Did his councillors really expect him to so flippantly decide upon a woman who he was meant to spend the rest of his life with and have children with during the course of a pompous tournament?!

Caspian narrowed his eyes as he hauled out the battered and worn leather jerkin and hurriedly he changed the ornate tunic he wore for an older plainer one, before shrugging the jerkin over his head and securing the fastenings.

A few minutes ago he had wanted to only think of Susan, allow himself to remember those small things that he usually suppressed however now with the looming knowledge of the tournament annoyance had overtaken; filling his coiled muscles with a pent up energy that he needed to expend.

Swiping a leather tie to keep his hair from his eyes from a table as he passed Caspian exited his chambers.

The sentry stood to attention immediately but Caspian barely acknowledged him as he made for the concealed back stairs that would ensure he would not encounter anyone.

Swiftly Caspian's boots descended the stone stairs and transversed the familiar hallways and as he neared the open doors he heard the sounds of clashing steel and shouts and cries of battle.

The training quarters of Cair Paravel were on the lowest level of the palace above ground on the west wing; the wine cellars and underground tunnels being below them ensuring no one would be disturbed by the cacophony of noise generated.

The grand oaken doors stood open from sunup to sundown every day and at all times skilled soldiers in every art of battle be it swordplay, hand to hand combat, archery or some other further afield skills stood at the ready. Likewise never once was the training wing of the palace silent or empty of battling soldiers.

The halls themselves stretched almost the entirety of the west wing in longitude and were about the length of the throne room in latitude. Great sweeping arches of grey chiselled stone ran the length of the halls, holding up a high arched roof of slate and rafters that seemed to multiply the din in the room tenfold. The entire walls were made of great grey blocks of stone that held countless racks of gleaming weapons and even a few tapestries depicting great battles and victories; Caspian himself featuring in a few. There was even a section of the wall dedicated to the dwarven made trophies Narnian soldiers had won in friendly tournaments with neighbouring realms including Archenland the Lone Islands.

At regular intervals along the halls, there were other great oaken doors that stood open onto sprawling green vista that was used also for training with long archery practice targets set up and the grand stables were nearby. When the weather was fair most men preferred to do their training outside under the sun, or even if the weather was foul; for real battle and war did not wait for a dry, sunny day to arise.

Of course Caspian had his own personal training quarters in a much smaller hall tucked away somewhere near his royal compartments. However the mood Caspian currently found himself in required more than a practice dummy to fight against. He could always go and seek out his sword-master – and tutor even still in warfare and its arts; Lord Nimien. However he knew that Lord Nimien would know right away with his angered parries and lunges that there was something on his mind and the sword-master taught him to lock away his emotion so his thoughts would be focused on the fight. But Caspian for once wanted the mindless melee of fighting; to expend his anger and frustration, his heart-break and painful resignation in each swinging arc of his silver sword.

As Caspian approached the grand training halls a few soldiers loitering and chatting animatedly recognised their King immediately and bowed, calling out jovially to him.

Caspian gave them a tight smile as he paused to converse with them a moment; afterall his duties as King of Narnia came first and what kind of King would he be if he could not spare a moment to speak with the men who risked their lives to defend Narnia and him, their King.

Caspian moved off as soon as he could though, itching for the feel of cold metal in his hands. At least in a duel he was in control unlike it seemed his own betrothal.

How on earth would he choose a woman?! Caspian's thoughts demanded again in agitation just as he reached one of the skilled swordsmen of the hall; a renowned soldier called Eltre.

Eltre bowed low; he was six years Caspian's senior with fair hair and sharp green eyes, "what brings your Majesty to our humble training grounds?" Eltre asked courteously in his lilting accent.

Caspian frowned lightly; he respected Eltre as the distinguished swordsman that he was but Caspian always felt uncomfortable by Eltre's continued insistent on setting Caspian in such high esteem. It was almost ironic given the numerous occasions Eltre had knocked Caspian to the ground when they fought.

"I was hoping to train as it were to expend some energy. I also imagine my time will not be my own in the upcoming weeks with the tournament and I would like to use what little I have left to hone my skills. Perhaps if you're not busy Eltre you would spar with me?"

"Indeed I would be honoured Sire to spar with you," Eltre said with a gracious tilt of his head.

Caspian sighed in resignation; he would never convince Eltre to call him by his given name. However he was also grateful, as Eltre holding Caspian so high above him, never presumed to inquire why Caspian appeared particularly restless or troubled as he did now.

They went to the nearby racks of weapons and armour to prepare. A squire immediately went to Caspian's side to assist but with expressed gratitude Caspian waved him away.

Caspian eyes scoured over pieces of armour, breastplates embellished with Narnia's coat of arms; the crimson fierce lion on gleaming silver armour. However Caspian only lifted a pair of vambraces and shoulder plates, not bothering with adding unnecessary bother; most soldiers only wore little armour when training.

He secured the gardbraces and then the vambraces tightly, flexing his fists experimentally and satisfied that his movement was not hampered he went and after a moment's careful consideration he chose a lean sword of gleaming silver. It mattered little which he choose for the blacksmiths kept all the weapons in pristine condition.

When he turned Eltre was similarly ready and Caspian gave a few long-arching practice swings in the air as around the fighting pit soldiers drifted closer to watch their King spar.

Caspian twisted his sword watching it slice through the air with deadly precision, flashing blinding like a white flame as it caught the sunshine's rays.

Fighting like this was so much simpler Caspian bemoaned bitterly; when his sword could find purchase in his enemy and the battle would be won but the verbal sparring of words he had to endure with his council left him more wearied than any battle.

They had cornered him into this tournament as a celebration of his birthday, _Lord Farzán's _idea, and Caspian was left defenceless unable to parry or strike back.

Caspian looked up at the pointed clearing of one's throat to find Eltre waiting for him patiently, "are you ready Sire?" he inquired politely.

Caspian nodded grimly, taking a step forward to signal the commencement of the duel for he knew Eltre would never presume to start a duel with him.

The first blow was easily blocked; the silver metal singing as they parried of one another.

'A wife?!' – his most trusted council members, many of who had seen over the years the love he bore for the Gentle Queen were now essentially forcing him into a marriage with another?!

Caspian lunged into a fierce attack, Eltre managing to block the manoeuvre easily but was knocked back a few steps by the force of the blow.

He looked to Caspian curiously, noting the King's darkened eyes, his tensed jaw.

And yet for all his tension Caspian moved effortlessly, his sword leaping out in attack like a tongue of flame.

His King's defence was a little sloppier than regular Eltre noted silently, but the fierce ever-onward attack more than made up for the last minute parries and subtle dodges.

The fight dragged on as Caspian propelled his frustration and bitter melancholy into each practiced swing of his sword, with each resounding clash that shuddered through his whole body.

Those gathered around the training ring began to shout incentives to the duelling combatants as a thin layer of glistening sweat covered Caspian's body.

He was panting heavily, clasping the hilt of the sword tighter in his hand and looking at Eltre, Caspian could see the skilled swordsman was just as exhausted with exertion as he was.

But still Caspian pushed on, past his heavy limbs, the bruises he could already feel blooming and his burning parched throat.

If only all things could be won with a physical fight; he would endure far worse a hundred times over if it somehow would allow Susan to return to Narnia.

Caspian pushed forth with a complex maneuverer that almost unarmed Eltre and Eltre staggered forth, barely righting himself in time to stop from crashing to the ground.

Eltre raised a limp hand to push the sweat-dampened fair hair from his forehead, "if his Majesty fights half as well at his birthday celebration tournaments we will soon have another trophy to add," Eltre panted out with a wearied yet wide grin.

Caspian gave a grim smirk in acknowledgment.

They exchanged another few parries, playing off one another and then Caspian lunged, metal sang, flashes of silver light and then Eltre's sword fell to the ground with a clatter and Caspian stood, breathless yet victorious; his sword pressed to the hollow of Eltre's throat.

Eltre gave a hearty laugh, his eyes bright and awed as those around broke into loud applause.

"I yield my King," Eltre said and Caspian gratefully lowered his sword-arm with a wide smile in return.

He felt better as he knew he would; the frustration and sadness was still there but he had expended most of the uptight emotions in the duel and now he could face his councillors once more and remain civil.

Eltre came forth, clapping Caspian soundly on the back as he took the King's sword from him.

"You fought excellently King Caspian," Eltre praised warmly, "you always do execute yourself with excellence of course, but your duelling today was outstanding."

Caspian flushed slightly under the praise, lowering his head to remove his vambraces and shoulder plates.

Soldiers nearby drifted closer, offering words of revered acclaim to both combatants and cups of well-deserved cool ice water.

Eltre took Caspian's discarded armour from him, insisting on cleaning and returning them, "it is the loser's chore your Majesty," Eltre had said laughingly until Caspian relinquished the armour into Eltre's hands.

Caspian smiled, feeling almost content as he rubbed a tired hand over his strained shoulder that seemed to ache dully though he didn't mind it much.

However his illusion of peace was shattered at the falsely surprised exclamation of a voice he knew only too well.

"King Caspian!"

Caspian looked around, his eyes initially narrowed but he forced himself to relax, to smile genially as the man approached, "Lord Farzán, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Lord Farzán chuckled, "I am afraid it is no pleasure Sire for your councillors have been scouring the castle for you all morning," the slightest hint of reprimand coloured Lord Farzán's tone.

Caspian bowed his head in gracious apology, "I am sincerely sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused," Caspian replied.

"Well I see that you have not spent the morning idly by any means Majesty. However surely these little boy's war games should have waited until after you had discharged your regal duties? – Lord Cras had to ride out to welcome Lady Eldra and her contingent," Lord Farzán looked to Caspian with a gentle smile and frown as though it truly pained him to have to chastise Caspian so.

Caspian ground his teeth together, keeping his back proud as he slowly felt the anger spent during the duel beginning to return once more.

Lord Farzán was a councillor and he had the right as Caspian felt anyone should to challenge him if they felt that Caspian had done wrongly. However Caspian could see the malevolent gleam in Lord Farzán's dark eyes that he got to so publically scold Caspian in front of a room full of soldiers.

But Caspian felt the anger bleed away as he looked around fleetingly and saw the expressions of the soldiers gathered who looked on. Their eyes were cold as they rested on Lord Farzán, expressions stoic and just barely maintaining civility.

Caspian knew that Lord Farzán was not held in high esteem by the army since he had tried to model the Narnian army on the Telmarine one insisting that the Telmarine structure was clearly the more superior one. Needless to say his words had gone unheeded.

And now his words meant to humiliate and belittle Caspian publically had only the effect of making those around him think even more bitterly of him; his comment of 'boy's little war games' had incensed many hardened soldiers who glared openly at the councillor.

Lord Farzán seemed to realise simultaneously as Caspian his error and smiled tightly.

"My apologies once more Lord Farzán and I of course will seek out Lady Eldra personally to express my sincerest regrets that I was not there to welcome them personally," Caspian said in his most cordial tone.

Lord Farzán pursed his lips in annoyance though he controlled his expression very well, "I am sure Lady Eldra will be understanding and forgiving over your neglect," he said acidly.

Caspian returned the insincere expression, "Thank-you Lord Farzán. Is there anything you require of me presently, if not I would like to go and change," Caspian said pointedly.

Lord Farzán dithered for a moment, before he relented, "No your Majesty, I of course wouldn't dream of delaying you."

Caspian nodded his thanks and Lord Farzán gave a reluctant bow before the councillor swept from the rooms, his velvet robes swishing behind him.

As soon as he left grumbled insults broke out around the gathered soldiers.

"Upstart little man," the sound of Eltre's voice hardened in anger made Caspian turn curiously. He had never known Eltre to be one to anger or take to any severe emotion with so little provocation.

Eltre was standing at his side, his eyes smouldering darkly, trained upon the hallway were Lord Farzán had disappeared moments before.

"I am sure he meant no offense," Caspian said sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips.

The loathing expression on Eltre's face smoothed immediately into a gentle smile as he chuckled, "indeed," he agreed.

Caspian noticed Eltre's hand clutching at his right side where he had dealt him a particularly severe blow. Caspian frowned lightly in concern, "I did not push you too hard today?" Caspian voiced, his gaze resting pointedly on Eltre's pale hand.

Despite Eltre's insistence on formality that sometimes made Caspian feel distanced Eltre had become a good friend over the years; a welcome relief with his patient teachings from Lord Nimien's vivacious and querulous nature.

Eltre noticed and spluttered, "no...no – no! No of course not Majesty," he assured hurriedly, "on the contrary I relish the challenge. There are little who can truly contest me left anymore I am afraid," the older swordsman teased lightly.

Caspian chuckled, "I would advise you not to say that within earshot of Lord Nimien; I believe he would contest you rather fervently on that point," Caspian replied with a grin and they shared a small laugh.

"Indeed I believe you are right Majesty," Eltre agreed, "and now I will take to my losing task and allow you to go and clean yourself up," Eltre finished with a low bow.

Caspian thanked Eltre once more for the duel and the two friends parted and Caspian moved off to the grand doors.

He exchanged words with a few clusters of soldiers as he passed; numerous complimented him on his sword technique and Caspian found himself more relaxed now to converse with his soldiers.

Eventually he made his way once more up to his chambers, loosing the leather tie that had held back his dark brown hair from his face.

He didn't use the back flight of stairs this time and instead used the main hallways.

Snippets of murmured conversations, of lilting foreign accents and of bright laughter floated to him on the heavenly cool breeze.

Cair Paravel now housed countless guests; royalty and peasantry alike and the hallways were abuzz with the new commotion.

Caspian had tried his utmost to assist the caretakers of Cair Paravel essentially; those that seen to the everyday running of the palace and yet were most often overlooked; maids to ensure fires were blazing in the hearths in the necessary rooms at night, stable-boys and grooms in the grand stables to ensure all equestrian needs were met and the chefs in the kitchens who slaved tirelessly from sunup to sundown creating grand feasts for their increasing guests.

Caspian had personally seen to bringing in extra help; he did not want to run the staff into the ground with exhaustion and over-working.

Even as Caspian was pondering if he perhaps needed to do more to ensure the smooth running of things, two maids hurriedly bustled by him, dipping into low courtesies with murmured 'your Majesties'.

Caspian reached his chambers mentally noting to hold another council as soon as possible to ensure there would be no unpleasant surprises like perhaps running out of food and ale to feed his guests or bandages (especially considering the amount of armed competitions that was to occur). Neither option would particularly reflect well on the King of Narnia; even though the tournament had been the furthest thing from his mind to celebrate his birthday Caspian noted sourly.

* * *

Without him having noticed at all, the time had passed and the day of the welcoming feast had come before he could almost blink – or so it seemed.

Caspian sulked moodily into a glass of burgundy wine, as rich in colour as the finely made tunic he wore, his long legs stretched out before him as he sat slumped in a chair in his room.

The tailors had made him get dressed hours before he was expected to be at the feast and Caspian had felt almost like an indolent child as they tugged and smoothed down his attire, despite all their best intentions.

The thought continued to press down on him though of the task that lay before him; to choose a wife?!

Susan's image swam to the forefront of his mind; of when she had appeared from the very forest itself it seemed like a nymph right out of one of Professor Cornelius' tales.

A knock sounded at the door and glancing up Caspian saw as his sentry slipped in, "Lord Drinian to see you Sire," he announced formally.

Caspian immediately leapt to his feet almost spilling his wine all over his lap as though he were a gangly teenager again as he grinned widely, his brooding mood from moments before evaporating.

"Show him in of course!" Caspian said eagerly, but no sooner had the words left his mouth than the very man himself passed through the door without waiting to be called, a knowing smirk on his lips.

The sentry bowed courteously before he left as Drinian crossed the room in a few long strides, and immediately grappled the young King into a fierce embrace that Caspian returned.

There was no standing on procedure or royal protocol in those moments as the two friends broke apart laughing.

"I thought your voyage would keep you at sea for another three months at least," Caspian said astonished.

Drinian grinned. The Captain had followed his King loyally to the end of the world, trusting implicitly with absolute faith that the young monarch would not lead them astray even if his wariness of strange new seas made him seem doubtful at times. Since returning from the voyage the two had become fast friends; Drinian almost like an older brother figure to Caspian – a most valued role after Caspian had felt like he had lost two brothers in Peter and Edmund leaving Narnia forever.

"I was at port at the Lone Islands and found them to be completely bereft of their usual nobility – being the inquisitive soul I am I soon found out the reason; King Caspian's birthday tournament had drawn all lords and ladies to Cair Paravel. It was then that I set course straight for here of course to witness the grand spectacle first-hand."

Caspian grimaced slightly, "it was not my idea," he grumbled and Drinian laughed soundly in understanding, "I can well believe that," the Captain said before his eyes narrowed shrewdly, "Lord Farzán?"

Caspian gave a grim smile in confirmation and Drinian muttered an oath under his breath, the Captain's quick temper rising swiftly.

"Nausus was kept deliberately exempt from the discussions until the last possible moment," Caspian informed.

The Captain's face grew grave in anger, the humour bleeding away, "and none of the other simpletons thought to object?" he cried in disbelief.

Caspian gave him an exasperated look, "why didn't my councillors and advisors object to holding a tournament to celebrate my birthday?" Caspian questioned rhetorically, arching a brow, "how would a councillor look if he was to object to celebrating the birthday of his king?!"

Drinian sighed in huffed resignation, "he turned it into a question of loyalty the sly dog," he muttered under his breath blackly.

Caspian's own look turned dark, "it worries me that Lord Farzán was able to organise and pass through the councils this whole tournament without my knowledge. It makes me wonder what other matters he may be addressing behind my back," Caspian confessed.

Drinian looked contemplative for a while, "surely your councillors are not so dim-witted to be unaware if they were committing treachery against their king?"

Caspian looked uncomfortable, "I do no doubt their intellect but neither do I under-estimate the cunning of Lord Farzán to manipulate words and make things seem innocent when they are anything but."

"Why do you not just do away with Lord Farzán then – send him to the Lone Islands or something on an extended stay? It is to my knowledge he is not popular amongst the soldiers – few would miss him," Drinian said, irked now.

Caspian sighed as he turned away over to the side table; he gestured to the wine decanter and with a quirk of his lips Drinian nodded.

"There is no admiration for him in the army it is true, but he holds considerable influence elsewhere," Caspian answered as he poured them out two glasses of the strong Dwarven wine.

Caspian heard Drinian expel a frustrated blast of air through his teeth as he frowned in thought, "argh!" he finally exclaimed in frustrated anger, turning to Caspian who stood holding the two glasses of wine in his hands.

"I should have been there Caspian – at the councils. Lord Farzán would never have been able to pull the wool over my eyes like he does with the others."

Caspian handed a glass to Drinian seeing the deeply remorseful look in the Captain's eyes.

Caspian frowned resolutely, "if you had of been here Lord Farzán would have surely made sure you were excluded like Nausus," Caspian pointed out, but the Captain would not be placated.

"I should have stayed Caspian," Drinian said gruffly, refusing to be swayed.

Caspian sighed, knowing only too well his friend's stubbornness, "well we cannot change what has already passed – we must face the present and presently there is a tournament to endure," Caspian said, drinking deeply of the sweet fragrant wine.

Drinian swallowed a mouthful of wine harshly at that, "this tournament is a farce!" he spat vehemently, looking to Caspian sympathetically.

Caspian hid his expression behind his cup as he took another long draught of wine; he felt he would need it for tonight.

Caspian knew of course why Drinian looked at him so sympathetically. As Caitra had said days before everyone knew what this tournament was really about; not his birthday celebration, nor to celebrate Narnian pride and honour – but to find him a Queen. It was degrading for him that he was seen as incapable of choosing his own wife but then there was also the fact that everyone also knew that Caspian already loved Susan. Hence the insensitivity of the whole tournament was frankly staggering.

"Be that as it may," Caspian said wearily, "it is not as if I can refuse to attend the tournament that is in _my _name for _my _birthday."

Drinian grumbled under his breath discontentedly for a few moments, reluctantly conceding Caspian's point, "there is a welcome feast this evening I heard tale?" Drinian questioned after a moment.

Caspian nodded, "yes the welcoming feast for the first night – why else do you think I would be dressed so grandly?" Caspian gestured to himself as he tried to lighten the mood.

Caspian's ebony leather boots were shined so much they practically gleamed when any form of light caught them. He wore a pair of finely-made plain black leggings and a burgundy tunic of deep velvet, inlaid with golden and silver thread that decorated the ornate high collar around his throat and the cuffs. A belt that bore a golden lion's head as the clasp rested around his hips along with an ornamental sheath for a bejewelled dagger. At his shoulders rested two opulent clasps of jewels that held a rich mantle in place of the deepest green it almost seemed black. And on his long fingers were baroque rings bearing huge jewels that made Caspian feel ridiculous to wear. Even his crown that Caspian had grown accustomed to seemed to be suddenly over-sumptuous and pompous.

Drinian chuckled as he took in the sight, "if you were on a ship and fell overboard you would surely drown with all your gold and jewels," he teased lightly.

Caspian noticed Drinian's weathered clothes and his wind-chapped face; the Captain had clearly come directly to his chambers when he set port.

"Go and get changed into fresh clothes," Caspian instructed.

Drinian sketched a brow in silent question, "if I must suffer through this then so must you – you are going to this feast as well and not just the games!" Caspian said with a grin.

Drinian gave a smug smirk, "of course your Majesty – I just didn't wish to distract the ladies attention away from you by dressing grandly – I would hardly consider it fair; this being your tournament and all," Drinian finished innocently.

Caspian rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "how very considerate of you my friend," he said sarcastically, "now go, and meet me by the doors of the grand banquet hall before the second bell," he warned.

Drinian gave a gracious bow, before he clasped Caspian's arm tightly for a moment his eyes sincere, "I am glad to see you again Caspian," he said, "even under the circumstances," he added with a wry smile which Caspian returned.

And then his friend was gone from his chambers and Caspian was left to his thoughts once more.

* * *

The day had eventually dipped into early evening; the bright blue of the morning's clear skies had darkened to a deep azure as rose-tinted clouds skittered across the horizon.

Already along the walls sconces holding torches had been lit and the flickering firelight cast dancing shadows across the hallways.

Caspian waited, leaning against one of grand pillars inlaid with white gold as he gazed out the window at the deepening evening sky.

Someone cleared their throat pointedly and impatiently and Caspian spared a half-glance towards Lord Cras and Lord Restor who both waited with poorly concealed annoyance.

"Sire should we not go in now?" Lord Cras asked for what had to have been the third time in the space of a few moments.

Lord Cras and Lord Restor waited to expend their duties as chief advisors and walk before Caspian into the grand banquet announcing him.

However Caspian had been delaying them as he waited for Lord Drinian who had yet to show any appearance. Caspian frowned lightly; it was not usual for his friend to be so careless in his timekeeping.

"Another few moments more will do no harm," Caspian assured his fidgeting advisors who turned briefly to one another to exchange a shared look of mutual understanding. Caspian smiled absently thinking how this was one of the rare moments when Lord Cras and Lord Restor would actually agree on something; their exasperation sometimes over their young king.

Four guards stood as silent sentinels at the grand double doors with gilded golden handles that led to the grand banquet hall.

Apart from them it was only Caspian and his two irked advisors who loitered still in the hallway while inside the grand feast was about to begin.

The great din of sound coming from behind the closed doors was almost impossible to comprehend; a great chatter of voices and laughter and shouts all blended together in one cacophonous symphony. The light that pooled under the doors was warm and welcoming and steady unlike the flickering torches on the walls.

And the smells – even from outside the doors; Caspian wasn't particularly hungry but his mouth began to water at the tasteful aromas.

Presently the sound of numerous pairs of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway and Caspian shrugged himself off the pillar to peer down at the persons.

Lord Drinian came first and foremost, his dark hair looking still slightly damp but a peculiar look on his face, "my sincerest apologies for my tardiness," he said quietly, clasping Caspian's arm in a greeting gesture.

However Caspian had no time to question his friend on his lateness for those following Lord Drinian caught up at that moment, and Lord Cras and Lord Restor immediately approached, looking slightly alarmed.

Professor Cornelius' beard had been brushed until it gleamed, his blue eyes twinkling behind their polished spectacles; he wore a grand robe of the deepest midnight blue that made him appear almost like a revered wizard.

Nausus' russet hair burnished brightly in the flame-light and he wore a voluminous scarf of copper silk fringed with silver about his shoulders, his cerulean eyes warm and gentle.

Eltre and Lord Nimien stood resplendent in their similar crimson tunics bearing the Lion's crest and the added embellishments their ranks in the army showed.

"You did not think we would let you have all the honour of walking in alone did you?" Drinian teased lightly and Caspian couldn't help the grin that split his face.

He had in fact.

Not because he thought his friends would abandon him but because tradition and protocol dictated that Lord Drinian, Master Nausus, Professor Cornelius, Master Eltre and Lord Nimien should all be already in the banquet hall seated at their respective places as noted; Eltre and Lord Nimien would be seated with the soldiers in high positions of honour, Nausus and Lord Drinian would be positioned with the rest of his councillors and with Professor Cornelius it was more of a grey area. The Professor tended to just plonk himself obstinately wherever the fancy took him and no one dared move him because they knew how close he was to the King.

Walking in alone, being announced usually by Lord Restor and Lord Cras, never annoyed Caspian before.

However this particular feast of _this tournament _where he was to become betrothed to a woman he could never possibly love made Caspian feel the pain of loneliness as he hadn't felt it in years; made him long for his father who was beyond the wave, for the soothing words of his mother – for the warm embrace of a girl – a queen as radiant as the sun itself.

"You cannot escort the King in – that is our duty!" Lord Restor hissed suddenly, looking towards Lord Drinian as the ring-leader and Caspian smiled thinking Lord Restor had probably guessed correctly.

"And why not?" Professor Cornelius piped up indignantly.

Lord Restor pursed his lips in arrogance, "because it is two of the King's chief advisors that announce the King as protocol dictates."

"And the Lord Drinian and Master Nausus are two such advisors," Professor Cornelius pointed out and Lord Restor's eyes almost bulged out of his skull at the implication.

"You wish us to step aside?!" Lord Cras thundered, his face turning very red.

"Eltre and I of course will be escorting the King in as his personal guard," Lord Nimien announced with a charming smile which only made Lord Restor and Lord Cras look even more ill.

"And what of you – you are no soldier or councillor," Lord Restor suddenly sniped out in bitterness at the old Professor, seemingly forgetting that his King stood but a few metres away.

"On the contrary Lord Restor – you will find Professor Cornelius has been my most loyal and oldest councillor over the years," Caspian announced and Lord Restor and Lord Cras were truly trumped.

Lord Restor and Lord Cras tasting bitter defeat bowed stiffly and Caspian felt a twinge of regret for embarrassing the two councillors so; however he also recalled their antics at previous council meetings and the regret waned in its intensity.

"Well this is a surprise!" Caspian turned to address them all as soon as Lord Restor and Lord Cras had departed to enter the banquet hall by the less prestigious side back door.

"We rallied to the cry of our King in need!" Lord Nimien declared dramatically.

"A King in need, eh? Just don't let our enemies hear that the King needs a full escort to enter a banquet hall or there will no end to the attacks," Caspian joked lightly.

"Not to be rude Sire, but do we not have a banquet to be attending?" Eltre reminded them all gently.

Nausus made a small squeak of alarm as he hurriedly began to usher them forward, fussing like a mother hen as he shoved an indolent Lord Drinian forward towards the grand doors.

"I take it this is the reason you were so late?" Caspian teased lightly as he took his place behind Nausus and Drinian; Eltre and Lord Nimien following loyally and Professor Cornelius electing to lead the way authoritatively towards the dais where the raised table for honoured guests and the King was situated at the very front of the great hall.

Drinian glanced over his shoulder, smirking slightly before the strangest expression came over his face; his eyes hopeful yet full of trepidation, "not quite," he answered cryptically, "there is a surprise for you – though I cannot yet judge if you will appreciate it or not."

Caspian frowned in puzzlement at the mysterious words but before he could voice his bafflement the great doors before him swung open and he swiftly forgot them entirely as the feast truly began.

* * *

Many thanks to wildhorses1492, fireflower297 and LillyZ for the new follows / &amp; / favourites.

Also especial thanks to those who reviewed!

wildhorses1492; thank-you! That is a very big compliment, I'm not a professional writer though that is the dream one day! I am so glad you are enjoying the story and I hope you continue to do so. And I think you summed up Caspian perfectly in one line what it took me a few rambling paragraphs to do!

GlimfeatherGlenstorm6-7; Thank-you! Next chapter – I hope you continue to enjoy!

sarahwood; Thank-you! Yes I am being rather harsh on Caspian, aren't I? Oh dear, erm…Susan will no doubt be a huge _presence_ in this story, however this is a Caspian/OC story and whether Susan actually turns up physically at all during the story I'm not sure yet as I haven't cemented a plot in my head as such. Sorry!

LillyZ; Thank-you! I'm glad you find the story engrossing. In terms of plot you're right this will probably not be the most eventful story with great wars, betrayals, never-ending action – that's not to say there won't be some – but my main focus I'm hoping for this story is emotional dilemmas and exploration. I hope it continues to captivate you!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks as always to my wonderful beta Silver Fletcher!

* * *

**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter IV**

The feast progressed much better than Caspian had anticipated and was not the completely dreaded affair he had envisioned initially.

The evening passed in moments of frivolity and laughter, of frustration and chagrin and of sadness and longing; all in all a bitter-sweet occasion.

The first such moment of laughter came as they made their way into the hall and his gaze had fell upon Lord Restor and Lord Cras sitting together with such sour miens that Caspian had to bite back a smile. Though Lord Drinian didn't and almost guffawed loudly at the sight only Nausus had managed to nudge the care-free captain in time with his elbow harshly in the gut.

However the next moment introduced the uncomfortable sensation of every pair of eyes in the room on him and even though Caspian was more than prepared and used to the feeling it still never failed to make him feel just that slightly bit more self-conscious.

For a brief wavering moment Caspian had even felt his face flush slightly in chagrin much to his own horror for the gazes that were raking over him were _different_. During other tournaments he would catch other's gazes on him, sizing up the competition, trying to discern did he favour a side by his gait alone or if he harboured any apparent weaknesses. In that situation Caspian would thrust his chin higher, smirking slightly knowing it was all part of the sport.

But the gazes that followed his every footstep now were drawn irretrievably to the golden crown that caught the light upon his head and the jewels and rich attire that he was swathed in. They cared nothing for the young man that lay beneath the gems and gold.

But Susan had loved him before he even became a king; when he was nothing more than an exiled Telmarine spoilt prince that knew not the first thing about leading. She had believed in him, even then when he stood in stained and bloodied armour instead of jewels and silk; and Caspian loved her all the more for it.

They reached the dais without incident; Nausus secured a high seat at the raised table further on down though Eltre, Nimien and Drinian bowed low to their king before moving off to other less prestigious seats. Caspian smirked slightly as he saw Drinian quite publically snub his rightful place at the table where the advisors and councillors sat. Instead the Captain squeezed himself in-between Eltre and Nimien at the soldier's long tables. Caspian rolled his eyes slightly; he didn't blame his friend in the slightest – the councillors' banquet table could be a rather dull affair – however he would have to have a word with the Captain about making such public slights.

Caspian made the traditional welcoming speech required of him, his eyes sweeping weightlessly over the hall of _hundreds_ of unfamiliar faces.

And one of the indiscriminate faces concealed within the long rows of upturned heads would become his wife, Caspian thought grimly just as he announced the commencement of the feast and a great roar of applause sounded, rising to the high ceiling.

Caspian had gratefully taken his seat. Professor Cornelius at his side mumbled a vague compliment at his executing of the welcoming speech but Caspian hardly heard him as his gaze locked on King Avrain of Archenland sitting a chair away from him.

The old King feeling the weight of Caspian's gaze flickered his own eyes to meet the look. Then followed a stilted conversation full of veiled barbed comments with the Archenland King about young boys who thought they knew everything. However Caspian knew after five years of having to deal with him that the Archenland King Avrain was an extremely proud man but that he usually was only a lot of bluster and hot air before he would concede to common sense.

What did concern Caspian greatly however was that seated at the Archenland King's elbow and whispering to him all through the feast was Lord Farzán.

After a polite kingly conversation though Caspian was forced to divert his attention as protocol demanded and to turn his focus away from whatever whisperings Lord Farzán was spilling into King Avrain's ear.

Caspian was meant to be paying attention to the eldest Archenland princess who was lucky enough to be seated at the dais beside her father while her sisters sat at the next most prominent and prestigious seating below the dais.

Her name was Erinla and she was the eldest of three sisters of the Archenland royal family. Indeed she was older than Caspian – and even Eltre he would venture; she looked closer in age to Drinian than him. She was proud like her father who she looked to for guidance in all things and as such she found Caspian as much an inept young boy as her father supposedly did and Caspian in turn found her conceited and vain. She was what many would deem beautiful he conceded with fair hair like finely spun silk that was piled atop her head with what seemed a hundred sparkling gems like a golden crown.

'A little presumptuous' Caspian thought wryly eyeing the intricately set braids. Barely a few minutes in Princess Erinla's company and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he and she were perhaps some of the last people who would make one another happy and the Archenland Princess seemed to agree until the conversation between them became non-existent.

The food that was served was truly delicious and not only tasted divine but was arranged in astonishing displays. Caspian mentally noted to personally express his gratitude to all who had been involved in creating the feast before them. The council could think of a meaningful way to express their thanks when they convened to discuss how much of a strain the tournament would put Cair Paravel under now it had commenced.

As the feast furthered on into the evening the proceedings became less formal as people darted between the aisles to go and gossip and converse with their friends at other tables. Young maidens would also take unnecessary trips linked arm in arm up by the dais just so they could catch the handsome young king's eye and bow low in acknowledgement before sauntering off giggling and exchanging excited whispers.

A few times Caspian caught the loud bellow of Drinian's laugh before the entire soldier's table would erupt into rowdy laughter and Caspian smirked thinking how Drinian was most likely regaling the table with tales from his latest voyage.

Caspian longingly wished for a moment that he could be down there seated amongst the soldiers who he knew and trusted, who had charged, fought and bled alongside him, enjoying in his friend's tales. Instead however he was stuck up on his raised dais feeling like a bejewelled pompous puppet, exchanging frosty few words with Princess Erinla all the while keeping a concerned eye on Lord Farzán and King Avrain, desperately trying to strain his ears without making it too obvious to catch even a single word.

Professor Cornelius had gone out to the gardens not so long ago to enjoy his pipe in silence and to avoid the temptation of the delectable and overly-indulgent desserts that were being served. Caspian out of the corner of his eye caught Nausus in deep conversation with one of the Galmian dignitaries and hoped that his councillor was having better luck than he at meaningful conversation.

Caspian's escape from the high table came in the form of a promised duty he was to expend. He didn't particularly relish the thought of having to apologise to Lady Eldra and her daughters but he also conceded with a humourless quirk of his lips that the situation was of his own creation for his truant morning.

Caspian stood, excusing himself from the table; he had long given up trying to catch even a wisp of Lord Farzán's conversation and his councillor had seemed to delight in knowing the evident frustration it was causing in his young King.

A server had pointed out the Lady Eldra sitting further down one of the long tables and thanking him Caspian made his way towards the identified guests.

As it were his regal duty to apologise was not the shuddering ordeal he had dreaded it would be but rather it was swift and painless. Lady Eldra was a small woman who unconsciously reminded Caspian of a bird for some reason; her small guileless eyes and the way she was perched on the edge of her seat as though she were readying to take flight at any moment.

Her daughters were rather similar, and they all seemed awe-struck and speechless that the King had come to personally apologise to them for being remiss in not welcoming their contingent.

Once the duty was discharged, it was as Caspian was making his way back to the dais that he halted at the familiar voice or rather _three _familiar voices.

"It's him! It's him! – Look he's even more handsome up close!"

"Hush child! Lower your voice!"

"A little late for that don't you think? – I wager the entire hall heard her the little fool."

Alia. Celesyn. Caitra.

He turned, his gaze innately falling on them with little difficulty.

The smallest girl with strawberry blonde curls stared unabashedly at him for a moment more before immediately flaming scarlet red as she realised Caspian was looking back at her. She floundered then before she turned around swiftly in her chair back to her table with a high-pitched cry that even Caspian could hear with two tables between them.

The other two seated either side of her turned to see the cause for Alia's commotion – for it could be none other than Alia Caspian reasoned – and their gazes too fell eventually on Caspian.

Celesyn had hair a similar shade to Alia's though it was slighter darker, a more sandy hue and her eyes widened as they landed on Caspian.

Caitra's hair however was a rich auburn, her face long and tanned with dark arched brows and an uncompromising mouth. That was how he knew it was Caitra and not Celesyn; in Celesyn's face there was a discernable patience almost, a gentleness but Caitra's eyes were shrewd.

Both women bowed their head respectfully at Caspian and Caspian returned the gesture before he moved on; it was strange to put faces to the voices he had listened to those days back. He had almost made it to the dais, enough to see that Professor Cornelius had returned.

However it was then that he was hauled roughly back by his ornate cloak.

"Caspian!" the urgent whisper sounded in his ear and Caspian whirled lightly to be met with the wide panicked eyes of his captain and friend Lord Drinian.

Caspian gulped; it took a lot to have this kind of effect on the weathered and sea-hardened sailor and soldier.

Eltre silently appeared at his other side, looking grim as he surveyed the banquet hall before them with assessing eyes.

"What is it?" Caspian breathed, trying to keep a stoic countenance; if they were under attack mass panic was the last thing he needed.

"We're outnumbered," Drinian said gravely.

"At least five-to-one I fear Your Majesty," Eltre calculated their odds swiftly, turning to Lord Drinian and King Caspian.

Caspian furrowed his brow in concern, plans already whirring through his mind, "Calormenes?" he suspected.

Drinian shook his head, his eyes narrowing in further suspicion as his gaze drifted about the hall.

"In about ten minutes," Drinian began quietly in a toneless voice, "they will push back the tables from the main floor and there will be…._dancing_." Drinian shuddered.

"And men are outnumbered five-to-one by women," Eltre elaborated.

"More like ten-to-one; most of them are old fathers remember!" Drinian said emphatically.

"Aslan save us," Eltre breathed horrified.

Caspian released a huge sigh of relief as he rolled his eyes, "you two are being ridiculous," he muttered even as a smile tugged at his lips.

Drinian and Eltre turned their heads to slowly look at their unmoved King.

"We will soon see how ridiculous you think us when you have danced your seventh reel I'm sure," Drinian said, his words coated in sarcasm.

Caspian cast a surreptitious glance about the room, noticing that Drinian was right; there was a higher ratio of women here but that was to be expected what with the _nature _of the tournament; it was to find him a wife, not the usual fun and competition between fellow soldiers.

"And what are you young boys conversing so solemnly about over here in the shadows?" Lord Nimien materialised out of nowhere, looking to them all with an arched dark brow.

"Boys?" Drinian repeated scathingly, "it has been many long years since I could be called a boy."

Lord Nimien laughed brightly, "you are all boys to me," he said with a little grin as Drinian glowered.

"What were you speaking of?" Lord Nimien questioned again.

"The coming dance after the feast," Eltre elaborated.

"Ah yes – many young ladies will require a dancing partner," Lord Nimien mused aloud, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"Oh don't worry old man, I'm sure you will have one or two dances," Drinian said jovially as he clapped Lord Nimien's shoulder.

Lord Nimien smirked, the challenging glint lighting in the sword-master's eyes and Eltre and Caspian exchanged a long-suffering look knowing the rivalry that existed between the two since the days when a young, knock-kneed and green Drinian was a soldier under the newly promoted and honourable Captain Nimien. They had chafed against each other from the start; both men possessing bold and dauntless personalities – however since their younger years the two men had become good friends though the rivalry of their friendship never left.

"That will be one or two more than you then Lord Drinian?" Lord Nimien said with a wicked grin.

Drinian's eyes narrowed as Eltre rolling his eyes slightly and exchanging a wry smirk with Caspian spoke over the brewing insult on the tip of Drinian's tongue.

"Come now Lord Drinian – barely a few moments ago you were thinking how best to avoid the whole affair and now you are competing for dances?" Eltre said, a teasing lilt to his voice as his green eyes sparkled with mirth.

Drinian's eyes widened for a moment in realisation before a wide grin bloomed on his face. Lord Nimien looked to the younger lord, a similar sheepish grin gracing his features and they all broke down into laughter.

"Look at us – competing for dances like young maidens at their first ball!" Drinian said jokingly.

"Perhaps I should add such a competition to the tournament?" Caspian said innocently, unable to suppress the grin. He was immeasurably grateful for his close friends that made the cloying women and their scheming relatives surrounding him fade away to the back of his mind.

Eltre nodded sombrely, "indeed," he agreed in mock seriousness, "I think a trophy for most reels completed would look splendid in the training halls."

Lord Drinian and Lord Nimien were glaring at them both now and Caspian was hard-pressed to stifle his laughter. Eltre on the other hand was almost annoyingly talented at keeping his composure under most circumstances, except for his eyes that shone with laughter.

"Ah, but who would win?" Caspian attempted to mimic a thoughtfully serious tone that fell flat when Eltre suddenly emitted a strange choking sound.

Caspian glimpsed at the sword-master out of the side of his eyes and caught the tremors shaking Eltre's shoulders; it seemed Eltre had finally lost his renowned composure and they both fell to laughter while Drinian and Nimien remained looking unimpressed.

"Young ones these days; they have no respect for their elders," Lord Nimien muttered imperiously and Lord Drinian added his resounding agreement while Eltre and Caspian chortled unrepentantly.

"You do know of course that I would win in any case," Drinian commented in a forced casual tone of dismissiveness to Lord Nimien who scoffed loudly in reply.

"I fear your long voyage my friend has given rise to some fanciful delusions on your part; too much sea air has addled your brain. But not to worry old friend now that you have returned I will be more than willing to dispel any such whimsical notions," Lord Nimien expressed brightly, grinning encouragingly at a darkly scowling Drinian.

Caspian caught Eltre's eye and they both shook their heads hopelessly as they raised their wine to their lips, not wishing to try and interrupt.

"_Whimsical notions?_ – And pray what whimsical notions do you imagine I am entertaining _old friend_?!" Drinian shot back, his voice barely controlled.

"Drinian," Caspian called warningly though a smile tugged at his lips, "in Aslan's name do not start a brawl at the welcoming feast. If you wish to challenge Lord Nimien to a duel wait until the games and I'm sure Lord Nimien would be only too happy to oblige you."

Lord Nimien inclined his head graciously towards his King with a genial smile before he clapped Drinian's shoulder soundly, "of course Your Majesty I would delight in the opportunity to duel with our good and _worthy_ friend here."

Lord Drinian's black look and rising temper was mollified instantaneously by Lord Nimien's words, "as would I," he agreed and Caspian and Eltre grinned in relief. No matter the rivalry that brewed dangerously close to boiling point at times between the two friends they always knew just how far to push the other and respected the boundaries.

"Do not think I will be going easy on you just because you have been at sea for five months though," Lord Nimien said, tugging at the end of his waxed moustache with a mischievous glint to his grey eyes.

Drinian scowled immediately, "easy? – I have spent the past five months battling pirates and renegades from Calormen on the seas; I wager my sword has seen more action these past few months than yours has the entire year cushioned here in the Cair."

Lord Nimien blustered for a moment, clearly not expecting the swift rebuttal and Caspian and Eltre laughed easily.

"It is ironic is it not Your Majesty that two grown men who berated us not a few moments past are now bickering like _boys _before us now?" Eltre pondered aloud.

Caspian frowned thoughtfully, trying to suppress his smirk, "you make a very astute observation my friend," he remarked, though Lord Nimien seemed oblivious as he suddenly exclaimed, "are you comparing _me _to a pirate?!"

Lord Drinian painted on a look of mild surprise, "why Lord Nimien I wouldn't dream of it – but they are _your _words, not mine," he finished with a smug grin.

Lord Nimien made swift to attempt a reply, "my Lords!" Caspian cut across him, "I feel I am in council trying to soothe my squabbling advisors!"

Lord Nimien looked immediately reproachful, an almost indiscernible dusting of pink touching the older man's proud cheekbones at his petty display and for letting Drinian play him so well. Of course Drinian looked far from remorseful, merely grinned all the wider at Nimien's discomfiture.

Lord Nimien shot Lord Drinian a foul look that carried the message clear and Caspian smirked internally thinking how their duel would be truly something to watch.

However their mirthful teasing was interrupted when Nausus approached them, smiling politely at those he passed.

The Faun advisor gently touched Caspian's elbow to draw his attention, "my King if you would like to announce the commencement of the dancing," he prompted and Caspian smiled tightly, nodding once.

Caspian heaved a sigh, knowing full well that protocol demand he dance the first with Princess Erinla as the highest ranking lady. However the thought was not as insufferable as it once would have been, as he moved towards the dais; his friends in tow, he heard the conversation behind him.

"How about a friendly wager?" Drinian proposed with a crafty grin.

Lord Nimien arched a dark brow, his face politely interested, "I'm listening."

"He who dances the most tonight chooses the particulars of the duel for the tournament," Drinian replied.

"The particulars of the duel?" Lord Nimien echoed.

"Yes; a joust? Hand-to-hand combat? A clash of swords…?" Drinian elaborated casually.

Caspian looked behind him curiously wondering what on earth his friend was playing at? – Lord Nimien was the better jouster whereas Lord Drinian being a sailor at heart was less confident on a steed; he was more than adept but not overly skilled as Lord Nimien was.

Drinian shot Caspian a sly grin and rolling his eyes slightly Caspian conceded he would know his friend's plans soon enough at the games tomorrow.

Nausus gave a minute signal to the servants that were standing unobtrusively about the hall to ready themselves to move tables and such aside, and then the Faun gave a surreptitious nod to Caspian, pressing a full goblet of rich wine into his hand.

A hushed silence fell over the hall as Caspian stood at the front of the dais and a few maidens hurriedly scuttled back to their seats with glowing cheeks.

"My lords, ladies and other distinguished guests" Caspian turned to give a half-bow towards the Archenland royalty, "to our noble allies of Archenland, King Avrain and his fair daughters Princess Erinla, Princess Nieva and Princess Cariel." There was a polite smattering of applause and King Avrain raised a hand with an indulgent chuckle.

Caspian tilted his goblet respectfully towards the proud king before he turned towards the hall again, "We've all gathered at the glorious Cair for…this tournament of fun and games!" Caspian faltered for a minute moment as he swallowed down his pride. The young king was not as vain as the Archenland King but neither was Caspian so self-abasing to not feel a sting of hurt pride at the false words. Of having to stand before an entire hall and tell blatant lies and worse than that - the face of every high-born lady perfectly composed, of every scheming relative and even his own loyal soldiers knew the words were false.

Caspian woodenly began to reiterate speeches he had said countless times before at previous tournaments; light and jesting with anecdotes that produced ripples of laughter throughout the hall and incentives shouted from indignant soldiers and lords alike protesting the reiteration of their embarrassing defeats, which all only served to increase the laughter.

Caspian rounded his speech to a conclusion politely, "and without further delay let the dancing begin," he exclaimed jovially, raising his goblet high.

Those finishing words were met with rapturous applause and cries of delight and laughter as everyone raised their glasses in tandem before drinking deeply.

Caspian was momentarily thankful that he had made sure to increase the last wine order as he surveyed the many flushed faces with wide excitable eyes that were about the room and imbibing generously of their goblets.

The serving staff swept away the tables and such with such speed and efficiency that it seemed a mere moment later when the first few tremulous chords of a fiddle rang out, that was shortly accompanied by the light floating melody of numerous flutes.

Caspian moved briefly to the dais, depositing his goblet on the table.

"Very well spoken," Professor Cornelius praised and Caspian inclined his head in respect, before taking in a rallying breath Caspian approached the fair haired princess.

* * *

Drinian had an infuriatingly smug look on his face as Caspian trudged towards him, barely managing to keep the look of courtly civility on his face.

"Don't say a word," Caspian enforced in a low tone when he reached the grinning Captain.

Drinian painted a mock innocent expression on his face complete with a wide-eyed look which Caspian's only response was to arch a circumspect brow.

"Is that Lady Inia heading in this direction?" Drinian remarked casually.

Caspian immediately cringed, his face betraying his momentary alarm as he looked over his shoulder, "where?" he squeaked out in a very un-king like manner.

Drinian immediately fell to loud laughter and after ascertaining that the clinging and overzealous lady was not in his close vicinity Caspian turned back to his friend with a ready frown.

"Very amusing," Caspian remarked dryly while Drinian continued to snigger unapologetically.

"I thought the lady was becoming a permanent fixture at your side. Everytime I looked around she was attached to your arm like vines to a tree," Drinian teased and Caspian grimaced lightly at the memory of Lady Inia and her over-eager attentions and laughter ringing in his ears.

"I couldn't for all of Narnia conjure a viable reason to get away from the woman," Caspian confessed, surreptitiously casting a glance around him to ensure the lady in question was far away from him.

"You're the King of Narnia – a very much unmarried King in search of a wife. There is very little you could have said to Lady Inia that would have voluntarily made her leave your side," Drinian replied.

Caspian rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh in resignation.

"Who was the girl you were dancing with last though?" Drinian inquired curiously, his eyes scouring the hall, evidently searching for Caspian's last partner.

Caspian gave a fond smile recalling the last dance that had been full of scarlet blushes, missteps and trod toes, "the Lady Alia of the Lone Islands," Caspian answered.

Drinian noticed the bemused look of his King and his curious look deepened. Caspian noticed and shaking his head with a grin he elaborated, "it's not what you think," he began, "though it is rather a long story, that I would not care to impart with our current surroundings where my every word is most likely being listened to – if not by devious relatives then Lord Farzán's spies."

Drinian smiled grimly in acknowledgment, raising his cup to his lips as his eyes assessed the hall though his gaze was no longer looking for the buxom Lady Inia but rather Lord Farzán's infamous spies.

Caspian drawing in a rallying breath, furrowed his brow as he recalled his friend's words before the feast, "what did you mean earlier when you said there was a surprise for me?"

Drinian's gaze snapped back to the young king, an impish light immediately entering the Captain's eyes as his lips twitched with the effort not to split into a wide grin.

"It wouldn't be a surprise then," he countered.

Caspian narrowed his eyes sceptically, "if this is another birthday…" he began warningly when Drinian cut across him.

"No, no, no – it's nothing like that," he laughed.

Caspian looked puzzled, "then what?" he pressed, remembering all too well the last birthday surprise his friend had orchestrated for him that resulted in a mandatory two week confinement to the healing wards, a hefty compensation to be paid to a very disgruntled Calormene visiting merchant and an extremely furious mermaid.

Drinian opened his mouth to respond and vehemently deny Caspian's suspicions when a dreaded laugh that Caspian had come to know unfortunately well over the course of the evening sounded, ever nearing.

Caspian grimaced hopelessly, "she's like a bloodhound!" he whined.

Drinian shot him a wry smile in understanding as he looked towards Lady Inia who was fast approaching them with a victorious grin on her face as her eyes alighted on her prey; a young unmarried King.

"Go on then," Drinian said and Caspian looked to him questioningly.

"Go on, escape for a while for some fresh air and space to breathe – I'll take care of Lady Inia," Drinian explained.

Relief immediately crashed across Caspian's expression, "but how?"

"I will dance with her; now go before she reaches us," Drinian urged and Caspian glanced over his shoulder to see that Lady Inia had been temporarily detained in her pursuit by Lady Eldra.

"I thank you for your most gracious sacrifice my friend," Caspian replied sarcastically grinning as Drinian rolled his eyes, "you offering to voluntarily dance with Lady Inia wouldn't have anything to do with the wager you have with Lord Nimien concerning the number of dances tonight?" Caspian added innocently.

Drinian's expression smoothed to one of superior aloofness as he sketched a dark brow, "not at all Your Majesty," Drinian assured him, "I happen to find Lady Inia's zeal very…engaging," Drinian struggled.

Caspian laughed and Drinian' serious expression disintegrated, "very well – do you want to endure another dance with Lady Inia because she is fast approaching."

Drinian's bright laughter chased Caspian as he swiftly moved towards the open doors with long sure strides.

* * *

The late evening air was still warm despite the sea breeze that rustled the eaves of the trees and the rushing sound of the waves ebb and flow upon the beach filled the night mingled with the much muted festivities of the continuing feast.

With a relieved sigh Caspian began to walk aimlessly along the paved cobblestone paths enjoying the much needed respite and privacy where he could for a few moments relax his tense posture and allow his shoulders to slump gratefully.

Caspian moved along the path that was leading him further into one of the many surrounding gardens of the palace; and Caspian was able to see that unlike many of the other gardens that were penned in with balustrades and balconies – the bottom of this garden led to a sharp drop of a sheer cliff face to the oceans below. Roughly hewn into the rock was a staircase that led straight down to the beach.

Caspian passed by an intricate display of rose trellises that formed an impressive arch; the sweet scent of the roses was heady in the fragrant air mingling with the numerous other perfumes of blossoms.

Narnia was in the peak of a scorching summer; of golden sunshine, clear blue cloudless skies and an explosion of colour everywhere; the perfect time for a tournament. He absently wondered what Susan would think of it all. During their time together there hadn't been much thought for small miscellaneous questions but he imagined that Susan would prefer the warm seasons; the heat of the sun's rays on her face.

It was as Caspian was staring up at the stars twinkling silently allowing his thoughts to drift caught up on the gentle breeze that a mighty roar out of seemingly nowhere jarred him back to his reality and surroundings.

However it was too late for before Caspian could even contemplate his next move, he felt a stocky form attack his legs and he fell with a heavy and audible thump.

Immediately stars swam before his vision and not the pleasant kind as white hot pain lanced through his skull, originating from where the back of his head had collided with the cobblestone path rather harshly.

Caspian winced, trying to reach for the part of him; the numb soldier that would be able to push past the pain and face his opponent.

Thoughts whizzed through his mind like sand through a sieve; was the Cair under attack? From who – Calormene? Further North? – Or perhaps somewhere far closer to home? His hand groped blindly for the dagger at his hip.

The shadowy outline of a figure swam above him for a moment as Caspian tried to compel his vision to focus. There was a hushed exchange of words and Caspian even thought he heard quiet sobbing.

A cool palm was placed on his forehead, pushing the dark strands of hair back; there were soft words being spoken but Caspian couldn't concentrate enough to distinguish them. The gentle actions threw him a little; surely this wasn't an attack on the Narnian King then?

Just then Caspian heard the distant cry of a voice he did recognise – Drinian: and a sigh of relief trembled about his lips for a moment.

He forced his vision to focus, to dismiss the swimming bright stars and focus on the shadowed figure hunched over him.

And then Caspian felt his breath stolen from him as though he had been brought to the ground all over again; his legs swept out from underneath him, the ground reaching up to meet him with dizzying alacrity as the dark outline took shape before him.

Clear blue eyes blinked back at him crinkled at the corners with concern as she was still speaking in a soothing voice.

_Susan._

* * *

Thanks to Amber and Ruby for the new favourite!

Apologies about the delay in updating; what can I say – Christmas is a rather hectic time?

Also especial thanks to those that reviewed!

W.H.1492; Thank-you; next update; I hope you enjoy it as much!

Just Me; Thank-you so much; I hope you continue to enjoy. It's great to hear from a reader especially about original characters!

sarahwood; Thanks for the review! And yes she's coming up soon!

Silver Fletcher; Thanks as always. I will try my best to strive to do so.

Amber and Ruby; Thank-you for the review!

LillyZ; Well thank-you very much; I am very flattered that you think I'm able to write like that!


	5. Chapter 5

Right well…I hope I'm not too hated after this chapter; *looks anxiously* - sorry!

* * *

**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter V**

Caspian winced slightly as his senses began to infiltrate once more into the realm of his waking state.

Vestiges of incoherent pleasant dreams lingered at the periphery of his thoughts. Caspian wished fervently that he could cling a little longer to those dreams interwoven with their soft singing melody – for the only sensation assaulting him as he woke was pain.

There was a constant low murmur of voices buzzing somewhere nearby, the familiar feel of soft pillows beneath his heavy head and the slightly pungent scent of healing herbs teased at his nose.

Thoughts and recollections of his last lucid memories crashed upon Caspian with the force of the waves that crashed upon the castle cliffs when a tempest raged.

Eyes shooting wide open Caspian sat up abruptly, frowning deeply at the bright light that immediately assailed his senses.

An exclamation that wasn't his own came from nearby, followed by a short abrupt exchange of words that sounded like orders, before the sound of someone scuttling off could be heard.

Then suddenly a hand was clapped securely on Caspian's shoulder.

Caspian focused to find Drinian looking down at him, relief etched clearly in every line of the weathered Captain's face.

"By Aslan's Mane am I glad to see you awake lad," Drinian breathed before he chuckled breathlessly in almost disbelief and sagged gratefully into a nearby chair, running a hand through his dark hair.

With barely a glance Caspian immediately noted that he was in his chambers lying on his bed in rumpled clothing from the feast. His boots had been tugged off and flung carelessly to the far corner of his room and the ornate black-green mantle he had worn lay in a discarded lump with equally ignored sparkling jewels.

Bright sunlight streamed in through the slightly ajar balcony doors and his bedside table was cluttered with various healing accoutrements including sickly coloured poultices in wax-sealed jars and scraps of bandages.

Caspian raised his hand gingerly to his head feeling the scratchy wool bandage and more acutely beneath it the dull throb. The situation fleetingly reminded him of a memory from years before. Carefully he prodded the tender spot on the back of his skull trying to assess the damage.

He was given no further time to investigate though for suddenly the doors to his chamber were flung open and a worried wide-eyed Nausus appeared, "I've fetched the healer," he announced, looking first to Drinian and then Caspian.

No sooner had the words left the Faun's mouth than Professor Cornelius hobbled in hurriedly towards the bed, blustering heavily having clearly rushed to his destination.

Swiftly on the Professor's heels and much more composed was Cair Paravel's most skilled and chief healer, Mistress Reani.

Professor Cornelius expressed a sentiment of relief much to the same effect that Drinian had moments before and Caspian finally gathered his wits enough to answer all the worrying gazes resting on him.

"I'm fine truly; my head hurts a little but I assure you my faculties are all intact," Caspian mumbled, swallowing uncomfortably at the dryness of his throat.

Drinian immediately noticing leapt to pour the young King a glass of wine.

However before Caspian could accept the proffered liquid gratefully a cool crisp voice sounded and a nimble hand swiftly swiped the cup from Drinian.

"As reassuring as it is to hear you say so Your Majesty I would assess the merit of your words myself," Mistress Reani said calmly yet resolutely.

Drinian made to protest when Caspian raised a hand to stall his friend's words, "peace Drinian. Let Mistress Reani see to her duties," he ordered quietly.

The healer inclined her head gratefully before she moved around the bed to near Caspian.

She placed the wine pointedly on the bedside table and with a slight eye-roll Drinian taking the hint replaced the beverage with cool crisp water which Caspian accepted appreciatively and drank in long greedy gulps.

Handing the empty cup off to waiting hands Caspian sighed deeply, scrubbing a weary hand over his face as he organised his thoughts.

Meanwhile Mistress Reani was set to work swiftly undoing the bandage around his head silently.

"You gave us quite the fright my boy," Professor Cornelius spoke, his voice caught between almost reproach and tender concern. He reached forward and clasped Caspian's hand for a brief moment, squeezing it fiercely.

Caspian flashed his tutor a grim smirk, "it was not my intention I assure you," he replied.

Nausus was shifting from hoof to hoof at the foot of the bed anxiously, wringing his hands out wretchedly, a truly miserable expression on his face.

Caspian caught the Faun's worried gaze and gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

The gesture however fell hollow as Caspian's lips twisted in brief unexpected pain when Mistress Reani's deft fingers probed the back of his head.

Caspian hissed and Mistress Reani made a sound of thoughtful contemplation.

The healer moved away to the bedside table and dipped her fingers which Caspian noted were stained crimson now into a small bowl of lukewarm water to clean them.

"Has he any brains left?" Drinian teased weakly and Caspian shook his head minutely, a small smile tugging at his lips before his mien sobered.

"What happened?" Caspian asked, his gaze resting frankly on Drinian, Professor Cornelius and Nausus in turn.

Caspian had already deduced since waking that the chances that they were under attack and currently in battle was unlikely. In the morning light with a relatively clear head to examine previous events - it seemed all the more implausible, that the situations that found him currently propped up in bed with a head injury, were the prelude or catalyst to a grand attack from their enemies.

Plus Drinian being not only one of his most valued councillors but also a veteran soldier and commander in his own right would not under any circumstances be sitting by Caspian's bedside waiting for him to wake no matter how strong their friendship, if Narnia really was in the middle of war. Drinian would trust the healers to do their duties while he did his, protecting Narnia until such time as Caspian was fit.

Caspian was pulled from his musings as he received the last response he expected to his query.

Drinian exchanged an amused look with Professor Cornelius, a smile curling his lips and Professor Cornelius actually gave a snorting exhale that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

Nausus still looked rather distressed but Caspian knew that it took little for the Faun to become distraught. However the advisor's wide-eyed look had lessened slightly and he had stopped twisting his hands so viciously; his actions gentling to his customary fretful habit of twisting his wedding ring.

Caspian's brows drifted to his hairline as looking back towards Drinian, the Captain actually indulged in a chortle before he answered Caspian's growing incredulous look.

"You were knocked to the ground; a pure accident. Most likely as you were caught unawares led to such an injury as you received," Drinian explained with a sheepish shrug.

Mistress Reani who had been unobtrusively sifting through various salves returned back to his bedside with an open jar filled with a clear viscous substance that had a sharp scent to it.

"It was a rather nasty blow you received I'm afraid Your Majesty. However it was easily enough stitched; it will be tender for a while yet but there is no reason why you shouldn't make a full recovery," Mistress Reani explained the medical side of things. Before she then dipped her fingertips into the gelatinous mix, scooping up some of the contents of the jar and moved slightly behind Caspian.

Caspian furrowed his brow, noting absently with a slight twinge the cool sting as the healer pressed her fingers to the stitched gash at the back of his head.

But Caspian's thoughts were otherwise occupied as his mind began to relay the events that had occurred.

He remembered a warm evening breeze caressing his skin and bright stars in the sky, a deafening roar, his muscles tensing then jolting with shock at the sudden impact and followed a sharp shooting pain that had ruptured at the back of his skull and new stars of white shattering across his vision.

But the disorientating memory did not halt there and Caspian felt his heart hammer in his chest and he consciously made an effort to even his suddenly accelerated breathing as the image of clear blue eyes flashed brightly in his mind and Mistress Reani eyed him curiously.

Caspian swallowed, struggling to keep his composure even as his thoughts chastised him harshly; Susan was another world away, she was never to return to Narnia; it was merely his mind playing tricks on him. In a moment of pain and agony to show him the one image that would bring him the most comfort.

"What did you tell those at the feast?" Caspian asked.

"Nothing," Professor Cornelius answered and spoke on to elaborate before Caspian could even ask, "it was merely intimated that the King had retired for the night raising no cause for suspicion. You were brought straight to your rooms by the back passageways where Mistress Reani has treated you most diligently since."

Caspian grimaced lightly, "I'm sure King Avrain took offence that I did not give the customary closing speech," Caspian pondered aloud.

Glances were exchanged that confirmed Caspian's suspicions, "he was…a little _put out_ that you had retired without him being able to speak with you," Nausus began diplomatically.

Caspian smirked wryly, "I'm sure he did not phrase it in such polite terms," Caspian ribbed lightly, though his mood was far from jesting.

King Avrain of Archenland needed little provocation to take offence at the smallest things, whether the offender had meant the slight intentionally or not. By neglecting to formally conclude the feast the previous evening Caspian knew King Avrain would most surely take it as a personal snub to humiliate him publically. Caspian grimaced, his jaw clenching tightly in annoyance as he imagined all the grovelling he was going to have to subject himself to in order to soothe King Avrain's pride; so they may work together like the allies they were meant to be.

Presently Mistress Reani raised her hands to begin to methodically bandage Caspian's head when nearly all of them spoke at once to stop her.

Mistress Reani glanced up at them, confusion evident in her expression, the bandage poised in her confident hands.

"No bandage will be necessary," Caspian said, "I thank you for all your services Mistress Reani; truly it is much appreciated," he added sincerely.

The healer eyed him shrewdly, not waylaid by the flattery no matter how earnestly it was meant.

"I would never presume to disagree with you my King but as your physician I must insist that you allow me to bandage the wound," Mistress Reani enforced firmly.

Mistress Reani was a healer of renowned skill throughout Narnia; she was particularly excellent at tending to wounds of the kind caused by battle having five sons all soldiers she developed her first-hand experience and treated all her patients as she would her own offspring. Namely with a stern uncompromising attitude and a cuff around the ears if she thought her patient needed it; not even a king was above Mistress Reani's commitment to her profession.

Caspian glanced at Drinian somewhat helplessly and Drinian helpfully averted his gaze; for even the stalwart Captain would not oppose the force of Mistress Reani.

A blundering cough caused all their gazes to snap around as Professor Cornelius shifted uncomfortably on his chair, his eyebrows knitted together.

Mistress Reani's eyes immediately fixed on Professor Cornelius who sat looking very discomfited and distinctly ill.

"Professor Cornelius did you perhaps by any chance indulge in the rich desserts I advised against at the feast last night?" the healer intoned superiorly and for a comical moment the Professor with his great white bushy beard and wise bright eyes was as young as one of Mistress Reani's sons as his cheeks glowed pink.

The Professor made no reply as Caspian and Drinian exchanged silent smirks and even Nausus politely concealed a wry smile by dipping his head.

Mistress Reani however required no reply as she arched a circumspect brow, her quicksilver eyes narrowed sternly as she pursed her lips, "I warned you Professor that such rich food would only serve to bring you more discomfort. I will make you a draught," the healer said with a note of firm disapproval.

Professor Cornelius squirmed a little more, though whether it was because of his discomfort or the close scrutiny of Mistress Reani's gaze on him was unclear.

"As always you are quite right Healer Reani," Professor Cornelius admitted begrudgingly, "if you would be so obliging I would take the draught now."

"The sensible course of action would be to allow you time to contemplate your discomfort so as next time you would not be so quick to disregard my warnings," Mistress Reani threatened weightlessly but all the same for a moment Professor Cornelius looked mildly horrified.

However with a resounding sigh Mistress Reani acquiesced, "the needed ingredients are kept at the healing wards. Can you manage the walk Professor?"

Professor Cornelius puffed out a long breath of air before with a great heave he gained his feet, "I can manage," he intoned stiffly when Mistress Reani moved to offer her arm for support.

Mistress Reani nodded curtly; being a woman of strength and perseverance she was always faintly proud when she recognised such traits in others. She swept from the room swiftly and purposefully, the skirts of her healing garb rustling with the movement.

Caspian cast a concerned glance towards his old tutor before dragging his gaze pointedly to Drinian.

Drinian immediately jumped to his feet, "here take my arm Professor," he offered.

Professor Cornelius blustered loudly in indignation as he straightened his spine, "I would have thought you young ones had sharp enough wits to recognise a ruse when you saw one," the Professor intoned as he rolled his eyes.

Shock crossed their faces initially before Drinian grinned, "why Professor! – I didn't know you could be so devious," he laughed.

Professor Cornelius narrowly missed rolling his eyes again as he began to shuffle off before Mistress Reani could come back to fetch him.

"Thank-you!" Caspian called gratefully for the close save.

The reason for Professor Cornelius' distraction was that it would be a rather poor idea to have Caspian suddenly going about wearing a bandage around his head and it would be just as bad an idea to try and convince Mistress Reani of that. The woman could be alarmingly fierce when she lost her patience.

Given that only a select few people knew off the events of the previous evening that had meant Caspian had to abandon the feast prematurely - for Caspian to then go forth about his normal duties sporting a rather conspicuous bandage would raise numerous questions.

Nausus was chiefly concerned about scheming lords that would assume Caspian wasn't at his sharpest and perhaps try and take advantage.

Also at a tournament celebrating the strength and skill of Narnia Caspian as Narnia's figurehead did not want to project a weak image.

Then there would be the inevitable trivial and ridiculous rumours that would flit about; encouraged by those who wished to harm his reputation that Drinian was adamant to protect. Rumours that perhaps King Caspian was only feigning an injury to exclude himself from competing as his skill couldn't compete with that of a common soldier.

Begrudgingly Caspian furthermore admitted it was rather a matter of pride. He didn't want to admit that the first injury of the tournament was the Narnian King being taken by surprise and falling over.

Professor Cornelius gave a non-committal grunt in response to Caspian's thanks though there was an impish light dancing in his eyes as he slipped from the room.

Drinian chuckled, "so it's true what they say; with age comes craftiness."

Nausus was looking vastly disapproving of the whole idea of deceiving Mistress Reani. However the healer while she would no doubt be able to deduce the reasons for Caspian not wishing to wear a bandage would dismiss his motives as simple male ego and inflated pride.

"I believe the adage is with age comes wisdom," Nausus corrected sternly and Caspian managed to hide his chuckle.

Blowing out a long breath, Caspian braced himself before swinging his legs over the bed, "I best ready myself for the day then," he mused aloud, mentally skimming through a rough outline of what his duties demanded of him that day; councils, games, feasts…Caspian's head throbbed just thinking about it all.

And as Caspian pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly a very prominent thought crashed through to him and his eyes snapped wide, "what on earth knocked me to the ground?" he exclaimed.

Drinian gave a loud laugh at that which made Caspian wince slightly at its volume but even Nausus cracked a smile.

"That would be Corl," Nausus answered and Caspian furrowed his brow in confusion.

Drinian grinned widely, "yes young Corl with all his seven years of might was able to floor the King of Narnia!"

Caspian scowled at Drinian, "he took me by surprise!" he protested while Drinian remained looking rather smug, "what in Aslan's name made him attack me?"

It was Nausus who answered him, "ah you see Your Majesty, he didn't mean to attack you and was rather distressed when he found out that he had injured the King of Narnia," Nausus explained gently and Caspian fleetingly recalled the soft sobbing he had heard while lying on the cobblestones and his own expression gentled.

Drinian gave a soft chuckle grinning ruefully, "he had been playing an enthusiastic game with his siblings in the gardens while his mother was at the feast. He must have seen the movement of you and pounced without waiting to distinguish whom he was attacking."

Caspian stood from the bed, taking a moment to steady himself as his head gave a tender twinge. He still managed a small grin of his own though as his ears briefly rang with the deafening roar of battle that had sounded, before the stocky form had hurtled into his legs.

"He will make a great warrior one day I'm sure," Caspian remarked as he stretched, groaning at the stiffness in his limbs as joints cracked audibly.

Caspian dropped his arms, rolling his shoulders luxuriously, "who is _Corl's _mother though?" Caspian asked as he began to tug at the ornate yet now very wrinkled tunic he still wore.

"Corl is King Avrain's youngest grandchild," Nausus answered and Caspian whipped around so quickly he almost staggered.

"Are we sure it was an accident?" Caspian questioned sardonically and Drinian snorted in amusement.

"He is the youngest child and only son of Princess Nieva; King Avrain's middle daughter. Princess Nieva married a Duke of Archenland nobility nigh on a decade ago," Nausus elaborated as Caspian finally managed to divest himself of the bothersome tunic.

"So I was knocked unconscious by a child?" Caspian mused aloud and Drinian and even Nausus chuckled at the completely despondent note to Caspian's voice when he said it.

"Fear not my liege we would never think of impeaching your honour by telling of it. Not the harshest of tortures could rip the truth from my lips! And even if it were I would say you were facing off a hundred Calormene dogs and killed them all before you fell!" Drinian exclaimed with over-exaggerated dramatics. Seeing his King and friend awake and soundly well had lightened the Captain's mood considerably.

Caspian smirked sardonically, "my kindest thanks to you," he replied sarcastically.

Nausus, ever the voice of reason threw Drinian a mildly disapproving look, "without the bandage the wound is impossible to see; there is no cause for one to ask, for an excuse to then be required," Nausus reasoned sensibly.

"Pity," Drinian mourned as his eyes shone with laughter before his expression sobering slightly he ventured cautiously to Caspian, "I know you said only under the direst of circumstances…" the Captain had only begun carefully when Caspian cut across him with a stern look.

"Queen Lucy's cordial is not to be used for something as trivial and inconsequential as this," Caspian replied adamantly and seeing the brief looks of disappointment flash across both Drinian and Nausus' expressions Caspian knew they had been hoping for the opposite answer.

"I thought you would say as much," Drinian admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Very well then if you are resolved to refuse the Valiant Queen's cordial and your wound has been treated to the best of Mistress Reani's ability excluding the bandage – we must make ready for the day," Nausus said, already making for the doors, "I will convene the council and await your arrival," the Faun continued authoritatively; his own anxiousness evaporating upon seeing Caspian up and about once more.

Caspian nodded his thanks, despite his Faun advisor being swift to worry and fret Caspian was immeasurably grateful; for Nausus was more than adept and reliable when called upon.

Nausus gave Caspian a last small smile that conveyed his relief that Caspian was well, "tis a welcome sight to see you recovered," the Faun added and Caspian returned the smile before Nausus left the rooms.

Drinian made to follow but paused, clasping Caspian's shoulder briefly to study his face, "you can sit this council out if you're not feeling up to it you know?" Drinian offered.

Caspian sighed longingly; the thought a very tempting one and Drinian grinned.

But Caspian shook his head in response, "Drinian I only knocked my head, I've had far worse injuries in battle, you know that! – are you turning into a worrier in your old age? - are you going to fret like a mother hen throughout the tournament?" Caspian teased lightly.

Drinian gave a small chuckle, shoving Caspian's shoulder gently as he released his hold, "fine," he relented, "I knew the injury wasn't that serious but it was your insistence on sleeping throughout the night soundlessly that gave us all quite a fright," Drinian almost admonished.

Caspian snorted, "apologies – I _was_ rather unconscious you know."

"Yes I know," Drinian replied emphatically, "I was here the entire night along with the Professor. I swear in Aslan's name the air was as thick as a fog the old man was puffing on that pipe so much! And I was sure Nausus was going to start pulling his hair out at any moment. Nimien argued with Healer Reani for a good hour about why you were still sleeping; I think the old fool had had too much to drink and you know what Eltre is like?! – Him and Healer Reani were as composed as statues!"

Caspian was unable to help his laughter as he imagined the scene that had unfurled around him while he slumbered on obliviously. His friends' had obviously been imagining ghastly scenarios where he would never wake or would suddenly awake with no memory; their concern was rather touching.

" - and that little lad was sniffling, curled up on that chair over there never budging an inch!" Drinian finished and Caspian turned to him curiously, "who?" he demanded.

Drinian's eyes widened, "Corl of course," he answered.

Caspian frowned, "you let King Avrain's grandson sit here the entire night? – I'm surprised Avrain didn't have a search party out looking for him."

"The boy was convinced he'd killed you," Drinian snorted, "he refused to leave the room despite all our reassurances and besides – he was not _unsupervised_; his tutor sat with him after she had left word with Princess Nieva. I know not what excuse she provided, but it must have been adequate for no search party was sent out," Drinian replied with a brief quirk of his lips, a strange expression crossing his face.

Caspian grimaced slightly not noticing his friend's expression, "so the Princess Nieva is aware of what happened?"

"No; it was expressed to the boy's tutor the need for secrecy."

"And she agreed?" Caspian said with some surprise.

Drinian chuckled, "I do not think it was for you sake," he confessed and Caspian quirked a brow.

"I think she knew or suspected the trouble Corl would be in if his mother found out what he had done and she could already see how wretched the boy felt; she decided to spare Corl the added misery while simultaneously sparing you the public embarrassment." Caspian gave a brief scowl and Drinian grinned unrepentantly.

"Was he really so distressed?" Caspian inquired, feeling now rather sorry for the young boy that had knocked him over. The curious turn of events almost made Caspian smirk at their strangeness.

Drinian smiled indulgently, his thoughts paralleled closely with Caspian's own as he nodded, "he clung to his tutor's robes the entire night while she sang to him; it seemed to calm him a little. However as dawn came so too did weariness overcome the little urchin. His tutor carried him back to the family's lodgings, Eltre escorting them. It was about the same time that Nimien left to open the training halls."

Caspian sighed running a hand through his dark hair, untangling a few knots as he did so, "I'll pay a visit to Corl sometime today," Caspian confirmed aloud.

At least he could allay Corl's vexation by assuring him that the harm done was really nothing. Also – rather shrewdly; it wouldn't do to have the boy blubbing about the incident in his worry, not after all that had been done to keep the occurrence discrete.

"I'm sure that would be very much appreciated," Drinian commented with a grin and he assured Caspian he would personally see to it to arrange such a visit surreptitiously.

A bell pealed resoundingly somewhere far off reminding all of the swiftly approaching time. Caspian cursed under his breath; he had ten minutes before the morning councils began and he had yet to change!

"Go! – Stall them for me. Say I am delayed and I shall be there directly," Caspian urged eagerly as he shoved Drinian towards the door.

"All these secrets…" Drinian mused aloud in mock-serious contemplation, his eyes bright with suppressed laughter.

"Drinian…!" Caspian growled low in warning.

Caspian gave off shoving Drinian once he had successfully managed to jostle the Captain to the doors exiting his chambers. The young king swivelled nimbly on his heels back to his room in search of fresh clothing.

However as he passed the familiar oil painting with its four individuals in his room Caspian paused, his heart giving a lurching thump as he swallowed thickly.

"Drinian!" Caspian called just as Drinian was half-way through the door.

The captain popped his tanned face back into the room, looking to Caspian expectantly, "I will be late also for morning council at this rate," he teased and Caspian threw him a distracted smile that failed to reach his eyes.

Caspian furrowed his brow as thoughts he had pushed to the back of his mind since waking began to demand attention once more and his honed control could not restrain them any longer.

Thoughts of bright blue eyes that had hovered over him, filled with concern and a soft voice; the image was distorted, unclear – coloured with the blinding sensation of pain that had assaulted him at the time.

_Susan…?_

The wild hope the brief glimpse fired in his chest made his very heart swell with giddiness even as the same time it was squeezed with a painful yearning.

Caspian swallowed thickly.

Could it really be? Had his greatest hope, dream and wish somehow become reality and Susan was somewhere nearby, perhaps fretting in a room waiting for news of his condition?

His thoughts had begun to race away from him envisioning scenes of grand longed for reunions when he forced himself, with whatever vestiges of his control remained, to school the fanciful and painfully wonderful imaginings back.

Drinian was still looking to him expectantly as the seconds ticked by unnoticed and unheeded. However the Captain's expression had begun to become tinged with concern as he noticed the deeply thoughtful expression on the young king's face; the almost feverish look in Caspian's bright dark eyes.

Caspian opened his mouth and closed it again, his gaze scouring Drinian's face for any hint… – of what Caspian could barely say.

But surely if something as miraculous and fantastic as Susan – a Queen of old and legend returning to Narnia when it was believed she never would again…surely Drinian wouldn't keep it from him?

They would tell him surely; Nausus, Drinian, Professor Cornelius – they couldn't possibly keep a thing like that from him knowing what he felt for Susan?

The light of hope that had burned so fiercely moments before was waning fast as harsh reality began to descend.

Drinian stepped back into the room, his dark brows knitted together in equal measures of confusion and worry; the morning councils promptly forgotten as the door shut once more with a quiet thump.

Caspian grasped desperately for the words to say; but to voice his most fervent wish only to have it denied seemed too cruel to bear.

"Caspian…?" Drinian ventured softly.

Caspian swallowed, gathering his wits, "I had a dream." Caspian blurted out rather unthinkingly.

Drinian's mouth fell open a little, shock prevalent in his expression. He clearly did not expect such a seemingly trivial admission. Ironically it was the unexpected normality rather than the expected abnormality that had thrown him.

"Oh?" Drinian began unsure before he rallied himself, forcing a casual grin onto his face, "I am sure you had many dreams; a knock on the head can do that."

Caspian took a deep breath; silently fuming that he had been too much of a coward to ask Drinian straight out if Susan had returned to Narnia.

He searched for a way to extradite himself from the conversation; agitation rising swiftly in him.

It had been a figment of his imagination, a cruel image to taunt him, a dream of what he wished, his thoughts chastised him coldly.

But all the same, seemingly without his consent two words had left his lips before he could stop them.

"About Susan."

Drinian's expression smoothed then and barely a split second later comprehension entered his eyes as he looked at Caspian anew.

Caspian knew then that Drinian understood what he was saying without actually saying it, what Caspian was hoping desperately against hope for.

Somewhere far off, seeming almost like another world the great bells tolled again announcing the commencement of morning council.

Caspian barely noticed as he waited with held breath.

Drinian sighed heavily, "it was only a dream," he replied quietly, his eyes filled with sadness.

The breath that Caspian had been holding was released in one long exhale as he blinked mechanically.

A vacant stare, a bitter smile, "I know," Caspian replied and turning swiftly he made to ready himself; morning councils had begun already and the games awaited.

Susan had not returned to Narnia.

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Thanks for the reviews!

W.H 1492; Thanks for the review! Run-on sentences are my worst enemy – sorry! Thanks for pointing it out to me – I find it difficult to notice them but I'll try to be more generous with my commas in future.

luv; No I'm afraid not – sorry! But thanks for the review!

Just Me; Thanks for the review but…Oh dear – I suppose you hated this chapter then – sorry! This is a Caspian/OC romance; apologies to all Susan lovers! However don't worry – I would never write Caspian as falling in love with another just because she resembled Susan in some way; Caspian would never be so superficial – he loved and continues to love Susan for more than her beauty.

Lilly Z; No worries – thanks for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

**POLL! - I have put up on a poll on my profile regarding the direction of this story; if you could take a few seconds to have a quick look at it I would be immensely grateful. Thank-you! **


	6. Chapter 6

Apologies for delay, however…the reason for it was I was doing a complete overhaul of the original plot I had planned for this story. I can know most definitely say **this will be a Susan/Caspian story** and yes Susan will appear! – Just give me a little time to derail my original plot and incorporate the new one…so without further rambling – enjoy!

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**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter VI**

The council that morning had been one of the most routine of councils in a long time. However it had also seen the return in force of Lord Farzán.

The lords bereft of their most heated topic of Caspian marrying were reduced to discussing the more mundane topics.

There was no incensed arguing, no flinging insults or squabbling lords and no near brawls.

However Caspian couldn't enjoy the respite; his mood lingered still on the cruel disappointment that had been dealt to him that morning.

He was annoyed at himself for allowing his hope to rise so quickly and so unchecked. If he was so unguarded in schooling his emotions then he really had no one to blame but himself for the cold let-down that inevitably followed, Caspian thought firmly.

Drinian was more than aware of his King's distracted thoughts and kept throwing discreet meaningful glances towards Caspian, hoping to catch his eye.

However he never did as Caspian feeling the weight of his friend's gaze studiously did his best to avoid it.

Caspian instead let his gaze linger around the table on his gathered lords.

Lord Restor and Lord Cras it seemed were at odds again; through half-caught snide remarks Caspian gathered the source of the latest dispute was that their sons were to be facing one another off later in the games.

Lord Arvais with his great silver beard was currently stumbling through a rather tedious list of all the produce Cair Paravel had ordered extra for the tournament. No one could tell whether or not Lord Arvais was disapproving of the extra cost or approving of the pre-emptive measures, but nevertheless the elderly lord droned on it seemed endlessly, squinting at his roll of parchment.

Lords and advisors fidgeted around the table in poorly concealed impatience.

Nausus at Caspian's right was diligently scribbling away with a feather quill at a sheet of parchment, swiftly calculating the orders with admirable assiduousness.

A heavy deliberate sigh snapped Caspian away from watching the Faun work and his gaze alighted on the source of the sound further on down the table.

In his normal seat, his dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, clothed in fine hunter green robes Lord Farzán was glaring pointedly at Lord Arvais as he drummed his long ringed fingers against the table loudly.

Lord Arvais however was partially blind, partially deaf and was more often to be found asleep than awake these days. As such the elder lord was oblivious to the hard stares he was gaining as he continued with his monotonous list.

Caspian tensed slightly and his wait was short as Lord Farzán exploded a bare second later.

Explode was rather a grand term for Lord Farzán reaching the end of his patience; for in truth Lord Farzán never truly lost his temper…except that _once._

Lord Farzán was good at keeping his emotions in check; it was the subtle changes over the years in his expression that Caspian had learnt to read that would alert him to the change in Lord Farzán's mood.

The hardening of his dark eyes in rage, the thin line of fury he would press his lips into or how he would often tilt his head to the right when he had thought of something ominously clever.

"Lord Arvais. This council has no need of you to finish this list." Lord Farzán interrupted the elderly lord, who stumbling over his words looked up blinking owlishly until his gaze rested on Lord Farzán.

Lord Farzán smiled caustically at him, "now do you have anything other that is actually _worthy of note_ to say?" he demanded in an icy sneering tone.

Lord Arvais blinked again as it was clear he was ruminating over Lord Farzán's words, not yet recognising the insult. Caspian noted absently as Nausus huffed indignantly, dropping his quill to the table tetchily.

Caspian inhaled deeply, irritation clawing at him.

As King and chairing over the council it was Caspian who held the right to interrupt others, _politely _demanding that they get to the point or to propel the council onward. However Lord Farzán had been adopting an increasingly bold pattern of interrupting others and making comments, mostly insulting, that only the chair of a council should make and hence undermining Caspian.

However before Caspian could even formulate a response Drinian at his opposite side had spoken, his tone sharp and cutting as he glared daggers at Lord Farzán.

"The same could be said of you Lord Farzán? – Do you _actually have anything worthy of note to say?_" Drinian mimicked with an uncanny likeness to Lord Farzán's own clipped tone.

A ripple of murmurs sounded around the table and Caspian threw a brief frown at Drinian. Lord Farzán sent Drinian a black look but as usual restrained his emotions to show no more than that.

"Lord Farzán," Caspian began addressing the said lord coolly. Caspian could not be seen to be letting Farzán get away with this any longer. It lent Farzán a power he didn't possess and would make it easier for him to dominate councils Caspian wasn't present at; a potentially dangerous occurrence.

Lord Farzán looked to Caspian; a challenging glint to his eyes knowing full well the tricky position Caspian was in.

For if Caspian was to rebuke Lord Farzán he would also need to rebuke Drinian for inciting disputes; something he didn't want to do for he personally felt Farzán more than deserved it. But as King, Caspian needed to be seen as exacting fairness in his dealings by his subjects.

Caspian almost wished fleetingly for the chaos of the councils on his marriage status where he could be completely forgotten about without leaving the table.

Caspian fixed Lord Farzán with a hard stare, "you will cease to instruct members of this council on how to proceed. You are not chair of this council and you will not exact your actions over it as though you were."

Lord Farzán had paled in annoyance but in contrast his eyes seemed to burn with a sort of malevolent glee as he tilted his head respectfully, "my apologies Sire. It was not my intention to overstep my bounds. I beg your forgiveness," Farzán recited dutifully.

Caspian nodded in acceptance, knowing Farzán didn't mean a single word of it.

Caspian then took a deep breath, "Lord Drinian you will not insult another esteemed member of the King's council during session," Caspian ordered.

Drinian nodded stiffly, his jaw tightened in annoyance but Caspian knew his friend well enough to know that the irritation wasn't directed at him. Caspian only hoped that Drinian would hold his temper long enough until the council ended.

Looking to Lord Arvais who having finally worked out that Lord Farzán had insulted him was staring at the former Telmarine noble balefully.

"Lord Arvais you may continue," Caspian instructed reluctantly; he had no more desire to hear the tiresome list continued than anyone else but it was part of his duty to be aware of such matters. Nausus at his side picked up his quill once more in preparation.

A little of Caspian's dark mood dissipated as he smirked slightly, looking to Nausus who seemed almost eager to hear the rest of the list; the only one perhaps in all of Narnia.

The council eventually rounded to a close. Despite it seeming that the list would never end, it had and the last half hour of the council was spent rather productively.

It was approved that the Cair would be able to sustain the tournament though extra orders for supplies were to be made as soon as possible by Nausus' swift calculations.

An extra pay would be given to the servants and chefs and others who had worked so diligently. Farzán had objected to this but Caspian had overruled him by putting the matter to a vote.

Nausus had confirmed to the council much to Caspian's relief and Lord Farzán's barely concealed anger that his talk with the Galmian dignitary at the feast was more than substantial. It seemed that despite Lord Farzán's smooth talking the Galmians were in agreement with Caspian in securing a more meaningful resolution. Caspian left it with Nausus to organise a focused council with the Galmian dignitaries on the issue; the understood and unsaid agreement being that Lord Farzán would not be part of any such talks.

Lord Farzán found it hard thereafter to dominate the council as each time Drinian was swift with a rebuttal while still remaining within the dictates of courtly civility and the council chamber's rules. Caspian was thankful to his friend and very grateful for his return to the council chambers.

However Lord Farzán exacted his revenge when the council matters turned finally further south; to the slave raids in Archenland and the threat from Calormen.

Caspian had been hoping if he gave King Avrain enough time to soothe his pride enough to accept aid from the Narnian King then they could commence discussion soon. Caspian hoped to be able to convince King Avrain in the coming days to send most of his troops home to guard Archenland's borders.

Caspian let his gaze fall heavily on Lord Farzán as the issue was raised; he knew that Farzán had spent nearly the entire feast speaking with King Avrain. But Lord Farzán only smiled innocently, intoning regretfully that he and King Avrain had spoken of nothing of consequence.

Caspian clenched his jaw tightly in frustration; he couldn't out-rightly call Farzán a liar without proof in the middle of council and Lord Farzán knew that well.

It was fraying at Caspian's nerves to try and treat Farzán with the same respect he awarded all his councillors with each passing day.

However it had been one of the first lessons Professor Cornelius had taught him about becoming a good and fair king.

A king must treat all his loyal subjects fairly; those he loved dearly as brothers and those he perhaps loved less so.

It was no secret that Lord Farzán and King Caspian rarely saw eye to eye but apart from having differing opinions Lord Farzán was also viewed as an upstanding loyal denizen of Narnia.

Hence if Caspian was to suddenly treat Farzán like the sly conniver that he truly was it would seem that Caspian was punishing Farzán merely for having different opinions.

That was a dangerous and unfair thing for his people to think. The last thing Caspian wanted was for any of his subjects to think that they couldn't disagree with their king without facing repercussions.

Hence he had to treat Farzán fairly to show that Caspian would listen to all voices, even if they disagreed with him and that he wasn't vindictive and unjust in dispensing punishments.

Caspian could grin and bear it mostly – for the good of Narnia; the problem would come in trying to convince Drinian not to skewer Farzán on the end of his sword by the end of the council.

…

After the council Drinian and Caspian made their most grateful escape down to the soldier's barracks and training halls to enjoy a small perfunctory breakfast.

Nausus had graciously refused their invitation to join them, citing that he wanted to make the orders before he hunted down the Galmian dignitaries.

Both Drinian and Caspian had missed their breakfast that morning for evident reasons and the simple fare of golden-brown toast and savoury boiled eggs had both their stomachs rumbling appreciatively.

The food was of course nothing in comparison to the feast they would have missed that morning in the banquet hall, not that Caspian felt at all bereft by the knowledge.

Caspian was rather grateful; given the amount of different feasts the tournament would entertain it simply wasn't feasible or expected that Caspian attend every single one. And Caspian much preferred the simple meals shared with friends than all the indulgent dishes presented in the banquet hall.

Caspian almost choked on a slice of toast when Lord Nimien with his usual prowess seemed to appear out of the air itself and clapped him soundly on the shoulder.

"Aslan is good indeed! I am fiercely glad to see you lad," the sword-master enthused, his grey eyes twinkling brightly.

Caspian managed to swallow his mouthful of food and smiled up at his swords-master by way of response.

Eltre silently appeared behind Lord Nimien, his keen green eyes effortlessly distinguishing the gash that was mostly hidden beneath Caspian's dark hair and his golden crown.

He looked to Caspian inquiringly, the gentle question in his eyes asking how Caspian fared, but Caspian merely waved away the evident concern.

And instead when Eltre spoke it was to courteously wish Caspian a good morning in his usual formal way.

"And to you both a good morning," Caspian replied as both sword-masters' pulled up chairs to join them at their small table that was situated in a cosy alcove in the far corner of the training halls.

Lord Nimien of course was never as subtle as Eltre and nudged Caspian as soon as he sat down, fixing his young king with a hard discerning look, "how are you – truly?" he inquired searchingly.

Drinian snorted into his cup, "well he was late to morning council, clashed with Lord Farzán and was the first to race down here when I mentioned breakfast," Drinian teased.

"Oh well then he definitely is back to normal," Nimien announced fondly.

Caspian rolled his eyes as light laughter sounded amongst them all.

"I wish you would all stop behaving as though I just survived some life-threatening injury," Caspian chided lightly.

"It was precisely the fact that it was not so grave an injury that worried us so," Eltre said sagely, "your response to what was in all fairness just a rather nasty knock to the head was so severe. You must have slept for over ten hours and with a head injury you know that is a vital worry."

Caspian chewed contemplatively on another slice of toast; he didn't know why his reaction had been so extreme but all that mattered was that he had recovered, and in time, that the whole incident did not have to become public knowledge.

"How was Farzán making a nuisance of himself at today's council?" Nimien asked sourly.

Drinian scowled at the mention of Lord Farzán.

"His usual antics," Caspian answered vaguely, not wanting to dwell on the more unpleasant things.

His thoughts were already still mourning the cause of his own stupidity that morning and he did not wish to add to his grief.

The first official commencement of the games would begin with the show duels in a few hours' time and Caspian could not afford to appear looking completely grief-stricken.

"Who won the contest then?" Caspian asked brightly, forcibly changing the subject. They all noticed of course but none mentioned it.

"What contest?" Drinian asked instead.

"The contest between yourself and Lord Nimien concerning the number of dances at last night's feast," Eltre elaborated, catching on swiftly.

Drinian sent a pointed look towards Nimien who suddenly grinned widely, "inconclusive," Drinian stated resolutely.

"Oh come now, don't be a sore loser!" Nimien crowed happily.

"I am _not_ being any such thing," Drinian replied firmly, "you failed to mention that your sister with her four nieces were at the feast. Hence you could dance with your nieces as many times as you liked without it appearing improper," Drinian said accusingly, waving a piece of buttery toast emphatically in the air.

Eltre and Caspian beamed, "improper?" Caspian echoed with an arched brow.

Drinian's cheeks took on a slightly pink tinge and they all broke down into raucous laughter much to the Captain's displeasure.

"If I asked one lady for more than five dances at a single feast she will be expecting a formal behest to court her within the week!" Drinian cried as he and Caspian engaged in a brief scuffle which involved a lot of shoving over the last piece of toast.

Nimien grinned, "in that case I am sure a lot of ladies will find themselves swiftly disappointed this coming week."

"Lord Drinian did I not see you dancing with Lady Trelsa; Lord Nimien's niece?" Eltre inquired innocently.

Caspian almost choked on the last slice of toast he had managed to victoriously swipe, for the second time that morning.

Lord Nimien's expression was black and thunderous as he glared fiercely at Drinian.

"One dance!" Drinian squawked in his defence, shooting a glare at Eltre whose green eyes were sparkling rather outrageously.

"One dance too many old friend," Nimien intoned ominously, "I will see you on the jousting field," he added, his lips curling into a wicked grin.

Drinian looked sullenly at them all; for Nimien being the better jouster was sure to beat him, for Eltre and his clever words and at Caspian – for stealing the last slice of toast.

"What was that?" Caspian inquired as he wolfed down the last of his slice of toast and having caught Drinian's indistinct mutter.

"I said the pirates were better company," Drinian told them all. The Captain had a brief moment to enjoy the effect his comment had on Nimien who was outraged that Drinian could be possibly comparing him to a pirate – again.

"No of course not Lord Nimien, dear old friend," Drinian soothed with a light chuckle as he moved his chair back from the table.

Eltre and Caspian exchanged knowing looks and smirks.

"I said you were worse than a pirate," and with those words Drinian vaulted from the table, Nimien's sudden cry of indignation following him.

"If you would excuse me Your Majesty, Eltre," Lord Nimien didn't wait for their reply as he swiftly rose to pursue Drinian.

"What is Lord Drinian up to?" Eltre mused with a quiet chuckle.

Caspian smirked into his cup before answering, "he's hoping to trick Lord Nimien into a sword duel by using Nimien's wounded pride against him," Caspian answered knowingly.

Caspian knew Drinian far too well to be surprised by his actions anymore.

…

"Very well Nimien; you've defended your niece's honour and your own a hundred times over. Do we really need to continue?" Drinian panted breathlessly as he leaned against the nearby wall of the stable, sweat dripping from his forehead in clear beads.

Nimien made no answer but evidently relented as he lowered his sword gratefully.

"Very well – but I shall still have my joust against you later on," Nimien warned.

Drinian groaned as he shot Nimien a brief dark look, "I had a feeling you would insist on it," he muttered.

Sheathing their blades both men exhausted and breathing heavily made their way over to the cobble-stone well in the middle of the courtyard.

Drinian reeled a bucket of ice-cold water from Narnia's deep underground streams and using the ladle provided he drank deeply a few huge mouthfuls.

Nimien swiped it from his grasp before he had not nearly had enough and water dribbled down Drinian's chin as he glared at the elder swords-master before snatching it back.

That simple action in itself almost resulted in the recommencing of their recent impromptu duelling that had spilled from the outer archery range targets to the stables. Huddles of plump chickens parading about in the stables' courtyards had suddenly gave off a cawing racket as they flapped their wings in a wild panic when Drinian and Nimien had descended swords clanging.

Nimien's steel-grey eyes narrowed in challenge as he wiped a hand across his mouth.

Drinian gave a loud exasperated sigh as he lowered the ladle from his mouth having drunk his fill.

"As much fun and good practice as it is to beat you old friend," Drinian began and Nimien snorted, muttering words to the effect that Drinian never beat him.

"I'm afraid I really must desist from any furthering of this duel," Drinian informed him with a grin as he offered Lord Nimien the ladle.

Lord Nimien quirked a curious brow as he turned to satiate his thirst before speaking, "not seeing a duel out to the end? – you really have been at sea too long," Nimien replied, enjoying the scowl that suddenly marred Drinian's face.

"I would gladly see this duel to completion with your inevitable defeat," Drinian countered icily ignoring Nimien's eye roll, "but I have King's business to attend to," Drinian finished resolutely and he began walking in the direction of the castle once more across the sprawling lawns.

The sun was high and hot above them in the blue expanse of sky. There a mere hint of a breeze that was not nearly enough. There was sure to be fainting ladies in constricting swathing garments and over-taxed young soldiers this afternoon Drinian mused absently.

"King's business, eh?" Nimien echoed aloud, walking at Drinian's side back towards the castle's training halls.

Drinian cast Nimien a side-long glance knowing only too well the other's inquisitive, rather downright nosy personality. Drinian refused to admit that his own was rather similar.

But all the same Drinian answered, "I'm arranging a private meeting of sorts for Caspian with Corl; you know the – "

"Yes I know; the lad that knocked Caspian over – King Avrain's grandson," Nimien interrupted and Drinian nodded with a mischievous smile before adding casually, "his tutor of course will bring him."

"Drinian…" Nimien intoned warningly, his expression solemn now.

Drinian frowned at the look of mild scolding Nimien was shooting him, "it was Caspian's idea!" Drinian declared defensively.

"You are playing with fire," Lord Nimien warned gravely, "and it is not your fingers that will be scorched if it goes badly."

"I love Caspian as my own flesh and blood. Do you think I would knowingly bring him pain?" Drinian rounded fiercely.

Lord Nimien's grey eyes flashed like striking flint for a moment before the spark of ire left them and he sighed deeply, "of course not. I do not question your love for our King," the elder swords-master conceded quietly.

"You have seen her! – She is a mirror image of Queen Susan!" Drinian exclaimed with a glint of excitement in his eyes.

"And you have spoken with her; she is _not _Queen Susan," Nimien countered firmly, annoyed by Drinian's foolish insistence. The Captain's good intentions would not make up for or excuse any pain Caspian would be made to endure.

"I am not insinuating that she is…" Drinian began resolutely, as they slowed to a halt mere metres away from where their duel had first begun when Nimien had caught up with Drinian.

"Then what are you insinuating Drinian my lad? – It is Queen Susan Caspian loves; what makes you think he will harbour the same feelings for a reflection, no matter how convincing of the woman he loves?" Nimien finally snapped.

For a brief moment it seemed that Drinian meant to make a fierce refute but he seemed to think better of it as he considered Nimien's words.

Drinian glanced up at the grand palace that glittered majestically in the bright sunshine.

"That was never my intention to try and engender such impossible feelings," Drinian confessed quietly, "I only thought perhaps it would be a fond reminder," he explained.

Nimien sighed heavily, "I do not think seeing one who looked so alike to Queen Susan would be a fond reminder but rather a bitter remembrance of what he has lost."

Drinian's shoulders slumped in saddened resignation, "I suppose I let my thoughts run unchecked. I only thought to grant him what small consolation possible before those useless councillors forced a wife on him by the end of this tournament."

Nimien smiled fleetingly in understanding; knowing that Drinian had of course only meant the best where Caspian was concerned.

"Well you should probably go and arrange the visit now anyway," Nimien prompted.

Drinian whirled to him, his brow furrowed with confusion.

"Caspian will eventually see her at some stage; better to get the event be it for good or ill over with now," Nimien advised.

Drinian grimaced as the thought occurred to him again that perhaps his grand idea would cause Caspian more pain than the pleasant reminder Drinian had envisioned it to be.

Drinian unquestionably had Caspian's best interests at heart; no matter how misguided his actions may yet prove to be.

It had begun the night of the welcoming feast when Drinian rushed to fetch Professor Cornelius, Eltre, Nimien and Nausus to escort Caspian into the banquet.

He had happened across her in the halls or more accurately he had almost bowled her over in his haste. She had been very gracious about it as Drinian had righted her, and she didn't even check Drinian when he had stared at her unabashedly for a good few moments in muted shock.

Drinian frowned; irked at himself now for being so careless especially when it was not he that would suffer.

Nimien suddenly clapped Drinian soundly on the back when he noted Drinian's brooding expression and he propelled them both once more at a leisurely pace towards the castle.

"Drinian my lad, if you go to the boy with a face like that to request an audience, Corl will think for sure he's killed the King," Nimien joked as he nudged the Captain.

Drinian however could only manage a fleeting troubled smile in response.

…

"Has King Avrain found out?"

"No."

"Does Princess Nieva know then?"

"No."

"Are we under attack and you haven't told me?"

"Wh – no!" Drinian answered resolutely as he threw a puzzled look towards Caspian.

Caspian sighed loudly as they made their way along the hallways towards the west wing of the castle and the designated room that had been arranged for the visit to Corl.

"Well something has happened and you're not telling me," Caspian said firmly, looking searchingly at Drinian who squirmed uncomfortably under the gaze.

"Nothing has happened," Drinian muttered unconvincingly and Caspian rolled his eyes.

"Are you worrying about your joust with Lord Nimien later on?" Caspian quizzed him teasingly.

That coaxed a more encouraging response from the Captain as he shot Caspian a rueful smirk.

Caspian grinned before the smile faded as they turned onto the last corridor and he looked to his friend intently once more.

"Drinian in Aslan's name tell me what is troubling you?" Caspian said half-laughing, half-serious.

"I'd rather not say Sire," Drinian replied and Caspian's hand shot out immediately to stall his friend.

"That is not at all encouraging," Caspian said frowning, "I was under the impression I was merely going to assure a young boy that he hadn't killed the King of Narnia. Should I be expecting an ambush or a declaration of war from King Avrain behind that door – otherwise why are you so uneasy?"

"I apologise for my distraction Sire," Drinian said earnestly, tactfully avoiding Caspian's questions, "we are just going to assure Corl of your recovery," he added.

Caspian sighed lightly, far from convinced as Drinian seemed to be guiltily avoiding his gaze.

Caspian had found himself in an improved mood since that morning when he woke. After breakfast he had gone to visit Professor Cornelius who he was slightly surprised to find was still confined to the healing wards.

At first he had been concerned that perhaps his old tutor had truly taken ill but it swiftly became clear what had occurred.

Mistress Reani being the intelligent and perceptive individual she was had quickly discerned that the professor was quite well and not needing of her medical attentions. This realisation in turn led the healer to determine the real reason for the evident distraction.

Hence for 'good measure' Mistress Reani was keeping the professor in the healing wards in short to teach him a lesson.

Caspian couldn't help the laughter that had bubbled to his lips as he espied Professor Cornelius propped up in one of the beds, his arms folded crossly and glaring sullenly at nothing in particular looking thoroughly bored.

But now Caspian found his slightly and somewhat forcibly lightened spirits were fast waning, as Drinian stood before him still avoiding his gaze.

"Drinian," Caspian intoned again wearily, "please friend do not let me worry unnecessarily."

Drinian's gaze snapped up as he looked positively horrified, the guilt in his eyes deepening, "by Aslan's Mane this is just awful!" Drinian exclaimed, muttering an oath under his breath as he ran an agitated hand through his dark hair.

"Drinian do I have to challenge you to a duel myself to get the truth out of you?!" Caspian cried, half-jesting.

Drinian closed his eyes for a brief moment, breathing deeply as he clearly collected himself, "there is naught for you to worry about that you don't already know about," Drinian assured him, meeting Caspian's gaze directly for emphasis.

Caspian breathed a quick sigh of relief, "thank Aslan for that. I was sure King Avrain had declared a price on my head or Lord Farzán had launched a revolt the way you were acting," Caspian said, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Drinian flashed him in return a poor imitation of an easy grin and Caspian shook his head.

"Drinian, you have never been able to conceal your emotions with any success," Caspian said gently, "however do you think you could manage the next fifteen minutes or so while I see to Corl? We are pressed for time today as it is," Caspian said, his brows knitted together in concern as he eyed Drinian carefully.

Drinian made a visible effort to shake off whatever it was that was bothering him and he looked to Caspian contritely, opening his mouth to no doubt make an apology but Caspian stalled him.

"Let us just see to this first and then I warn you – I will find out what is it that is vexing you so," Caspian enforced, the grim determination in the statement gentled by the evident concern in his eyes for his friend.

Drinian swallowed thickly, 'you'll find out sooner than you think Caspian' Drinian thought inwardly.

They both made their way down the smaller passage that was flooded with golden light from the tall windows that overlooked the sea on one side and the vast gardens on the other.

Reaching the door at the end Caspian subconsciously paused to straighten his tunic; a pale pearly blue in colour inlaid with silver thread.

He raised a hand to give the door before them a firm two raps that echoed in the quiet of the hall.

Then a female voice that Caspian recognised faintly in the recesses of his mind called for them to enter.

* * *

Thanks to new follower ShadowNinja1011!

Replies to reviews;

LillyZ; Well…it might not have been Susan that knocked him down but after much tweaking I can assure you it will turn into _that kind of story_. Yes Susan will be appearing and Susan and Caspian will be reunited, but not without added difficulties first.

W.H.1492; Thanks for the review! I hope you continue to enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

**Sun and Shadow**

**Chapter VII**

Caspian's breath hitched in his throat for a brief interminable moment as he stepped into the room through the open doorway, Drinian following.

The woman immediately sat her book aside on a small round table and stood smoothing out her red brocade skirts with sure, pale hands.

She dipped into a low courtesy, the heavy braid her dark hair was plaited into falling over her shoulder.

A blast of sunshine suddenly burst into the room as the doors that opened onto the gardens were flung open carelessly and a boy with a mop of blonde hair skidded in it seemed on a ray of light itself.

"Corl," the woman called admonishingly, her blue eyes flickering pointedly towards Caspian.

Caspian felt his breathing even, his heartbeat resume its normal rhythm as the woman stepped towards the identified Corl, her nimble fingers reaching out to pluck leaves and such debris from the boy's flaxen hair.

_She wasn't Susan_, Caspian thought bitterly. For a brief moment he thought perhaps the impossible, the miraculous, the most longed for had happened and that Susan had somehow returned to Narnia…but it wasn't.

At first glance, perhaps to the untrained eye, the woman resembled Susan. But in barely a few seconds Caspian could distinguish that she was nothing like his Gentle Queen.

She had the same blue eyes, same rich burnished hair and fair skin; but so too was Drinian blue-eyed and dark-haired and Caspian would say that the woman no more resembled Susan than Drinian did.

Caspian was fleetingly aware that Drinian was watching him with abated breath; the Captain's usual easy humour seemed to have fled.

The woman nudged Corl discreetly and the young boy stumbled into a low clumsy bow with eyes as wide as saucers, "have you come to put me in the dungeons Sire?" he squeaked. And yet despite the boy's evident fear, faced with the Narnian King he had ungainly concussed previously, Corl still tilted his chin up proudly. A true Archenland royal.

Caspian felt a smile break across his face and the simple responsive gesture seemed to shake him from his trance.

This woman wasn't Susan, and though she had unwittingly served as a bitter reminder, Caspian was able to push the thoughts and memories and painful longing away as he did every other time. It wasn't the first time he had perhaps glanced too quickly and had imagined he had saw Susan amongst crowded halls or out of the corner of his eye.

"Nay I am not here to throw you in the dungeons," Caspian replied, hunkering down so he could be at eye-level with the young boy.

_Her_ pale hands rested lightly and reassuringly on the boy's shoulders, acting as a comfort but also as a reminder to stand straight in front of the King.

A relieved grin split Corl's face. "I didn't think you would," he answered cheekily, and Caspian and Drinian chuckled.

Drinian subsequently relieved by Caspian's seeming indifference to the woman that so resembled the gentle queen.

"Corl," _her_ voice sounded again; the volume hadn't raised a decibel, but the tone held a note of clear reprimand.

The boy glanced up innocently, his small brow puckered with confusion before realisation dawned and he looked to Caspian anew, a sheepish expression gracing his young face.

"I am really sorry though – I really didn't mean it, I thought you were Ressy," Corl explained earnestly, "and when I saw it was you I – I…I thought you were dead!" Corl exclaimed with wide eyes and a vigorous little nod.

Caspian chuckled, "well as you can see no harm was done – none lasting anyway," Caspian allayed his worries, reaching out a hand to ruffle the boy's fair hair, dislodging a few specks of dirt and blades of grass.

Corl grinned, already shuffling his feet in eager impatience to be off exploring and causing mischief and knocking unsuspecting Kings off their feet.

Caspian straightened to stand and unintentionally caught her blue eyes resting on him knowingly.

And Caspian realised that as he bent down to speak with Corl she must have seen the gash at the back of his head. Caspian shot her a meaningful look not wanting to bring it up and distress Corl – who was looking very much relieved now – but he need not have bothered. Her blue eyes comprehended perfectly.

Caspian taking the initiative spoke. "My apologies Lady for my rudeness. I do not think we have met," Caspian inquired courteously. Caspian knew for a fact they had never met.

The woman tilted her head slightly in respect, a slightly mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Nay Your Majesty, though I have spent an entire night in your bedchamber we have not been properly introduced," she confirmed, and Drinian chortled while Caspian smirked even as he pinked slightly.

She swept into a graceful courtesy then, despite the close quarters not requiring such deep displays of subservience to royalty.

"I am Aenna; royal tutor to the children of Princess Nieva of Archenland."

"The children?" Caspian echoed.

A fond smile graced Aenna's lips, a twinkle of laughter shining in her eyes as she glanced down for a moment at Corl. "Yes, Corl is not alone in his mischief," she answered. "He is blessed with two sisters; Della and Arressa." Then she winked conspiratorially at Caspian, "or Ressy for short," she added and Corl scowled at the mention of his troublesome sister.

"Ressy doesn't play by the rules," he piped up indignantly, looking to Caspian with a long-suffering sigh.

"You will find that ladies have a habit of making their own rules," Drinian intoned with a grin.

Corl nodded his little head emphatically, his blonde brows drawing down into a very serious expression. "My sisters do it all the time – and mother too! It's _girls _– they're always changing the rules…"

Caspian and Drinian did their best to stifle their chuckles as Aenna cleared her throat pointedly, halting Corl's tirade.

Corl looked up to her, gulping. "Well I didn't mean _you_ of course Aenna," he intoned obviously.

Aenna nodded sagely though her eyes still shone with suppressed laughter. "Nevertheless, it is most ungenerous of you to speak of your mother and sisters so – especially in front of the King," Aenna said gently, and Corl sucked in his bottom lip guiltily.

"Sorry Aenna," he murmured, his round blue eyes sincere.

Aenna clearly couldn't repress her smile any longer as it broke across her face and she chuckled. "Very well little soldier," she accepted as she released her hold on him, discharging her ward to his mischief.

Smile once more firmly in place Corl whirled lightly on his toes, readying to make a hasty farewell before he raced off into the gardens again to enjoy the bright sunshine.

Only his tutor's tactful clearing of her throat reminded the young boy he needed to properly take his leave of the Narnian King.

Corl straightened up to his full height – barely reaching Caspian's elbow – and then the young Archenland royal swept into an elaborate bow.

"Your Majesty," Corl addressed Caspian sombrely and the three adults in the room bit back indulgent smiles. Corl was evidently a long way yet from strictly adhering to perfect courtly etiquette, yet his efforts were admirable. However in the next moment the amenities of being a royal were shrugged from his young shoulders and Corl was just a young boy again. Caspian was glad, for Corl possessed too impish an air, that it would be a shame to quash it so soon in exchange for dull and impeccable courtly manner.

The boy's tutor – _Aenna _seemed to be of the same opinion. For although censure rested in her eyes rebuking Corl's easy manner with the King of Narnia, the secretive smile on her lips betrayed her. Indeed had Caspian asked her, Aenna would have at that moment admitted she often encouraged Corl's mischievous streak. Despite the tutor knowing it violated the strict and formal behaviour she was meant to be instilling in the young royal.

Caspian couldn't help but wish longingly for a moment, that he too could as easily discard the trappings of his title. To be able to challenge Farzán out-rightly for his deceitfulness like a man, rather than remain unbiased and above such matters as a King. To be able to love a woman, _Susan_ and not have to sacrifice his own happiness in order to provide his kingdom with the heir they demanded.

And yet the bitter longings were fleeting, for Caspian considered there to be no greater honour than to serve his people as their chosen King. Hence no sacrifice was too great, even if it would break his heart to see the kingdom's will done.

"Caspian?"

Caspian blinked rapidly at the prompting touch to his elbow that tore him from his musing thoughts. He had not realised that his sudden muteness and faraway look had not gone unnoticed.

Drinian's face was lined with concern, his perceptive eyes looking to Caspian worriedly.

Caspian glanced around him and saw Aenna's gaze resting on him just as knowingly.

The young King cleared his throat a little awkwardly, irked by his own preoccupation. He knew the cause easily enough. But it had been long years since thoughts of _Susan_ had affected him so strongly in his daily affairs.

He looked to Aenna again, her reminiscent yet utterly unfamiliar blue eyes that had caused Caspian's distraction. Her eyes shone clear with worry as her gaze flickered to Drinian.

"Caspian is it your wound?" Drinian murmured discreetly, his concerned hold on Caspian's elbow tightened lest his King should drop before him.

It was only then however that Caspian noticed another pair of eyes watching him. Silver-blue orbs framed with golden lashes peered up at Caspian inquiringly.

"Corl dear, why don't you go and play in the gardens," Aenna suggested softly, reaching out a white hand to nudge the immobile boy.

Caspian snapped himself from his stupor.

"Forgive me," he murmured, "I have a slight headache," he admitted.

Caspian caught the understanding look that passed between Aenna and Drinian. _Only they didn't comprehend at all_ Caspian thought. They believed his brief lapse to be the result of lingering pains from his head wound, hence their real concern. They didn't understand that Caspian had been suffering a _lingering pain_ for nigh on five years now, and that no healing herb or incantation would cure him of its persistent ache. Caspian didn't expect them to realise the cause of his sudden grief though He had trained long and hard to keep such thoughts from showing clearly on his face. Only recent events with this blasted tournament drove the pained thought of losing Susan ever more forcefully to the front of his mind. Caspian knew, logically, it was silly to think of his impending marriage as losing Susan. He had lost Susan long before that to an entirely different world. Yet the thought of having to kiss another, to love and cherish another; it was worse than losing Susan. It was losing himself. The only factor Caspian could console himself with was the fact that his 'wife' seemed set to be Princess Erinla. She would not expect him to love her given she clearly despised him. The thoughts had been plaguing him relentlessly and with no outlet the young king was being driven to the maddening verge of constant distraction.

And yet, in his loneliness Caspian found that there was a pair of eyes that seemed to _understand. _To understand more completely than those supposedly older and wiser than he could. Those eyes were Corl's.

"You looked sad."

Every gaze snapped to Corl with an almost unnerving intensity. The young Archenland royal never flinched though as he stared up at Caspian, almost knowingly.

"What?" Caspian breathed.

"You looked sad – just now," Corl repeated, his silver-blue eyes seeming much older than his seven years.

Aenna sunk down to her knees as she broke the unyielding gaze Corl had fixed on Caspian, turning the young boy towards her.

"We must away to the tournament Caspian," Drinian muttered quietly by Caspian's ear. "A visit to the healer on our way would not go amiss either," his friend advised, his face still filled with concern.

But Caspian's attention was otherwise claimed as Aenna had begun to speak to Corl then in dulcet, low tones that Caspian nonetheless heard.

"Corl darling, you must not say such things – remember we discussed this before. Especially not to nobles or Aslan forbid Kings…"

Corl pouted stubbornly, "but he was Aenna! He was sad!"

"Corl!" Aenna said, her tone firming a little, though it clearly gave the tutor no pleasure to reprimand the young boy as her brow furrowed helplessly.

"Please," Caspian interrupted suddenly, finally regaining a hold over the situation. They all looked towards him.

"There is no need to rebuke him," Caspian said gently to Aenna. A slight measure of surprise crept into the woman's face as she hesitantly obeyed. "I was…saddened and Corl noticed. It shows the making of a good soldier to notice things others do not."

Corl grinned appreciatively and Caspian tried not to feel the two sympathetic gazes resting on him.

Caspian had rather effectively worked out now the source of Drinian's previous discomfort. It had been all too evident since _Aenna_ had stepped forward unknowingly.

But the second worried gaze – that of Aenna's herself, surprised Caspian a little. He wondered why the Archenland tutor would be so concerned for a Narnian King's woes.

Drinian made to politely prompt Caspian to leave again for the tournament's starting ceremony. In truth Caspian was dreading it. To spend an entire morning in the sweltering heat, beside Princess Erinla worrying over other more vital matters to do with his kingdom.

Yet before the words could form on Drinian's lips however, Corl had commandeered the conversation. Corl's perceptive blue eyes flitted to the sword at Caspian's hip and an awed gasp suddenly left his lips.

Aenna's gaze had snapped to her young ward, immediately worried by his expletive.

Corl looked up to Caspian intently, an air of quiet solemnity surrounding the young boy, "is that _the sword_?"

Caspian quirked a brow in polite confusion.

Corl's tutor's eyes followed the young boy's line of vision to ascertain her ward's sudden enrapture.

A small smile curved Aenna's lips then as her gaze fell upon the object of Corl's fascination.

"We are learning the old tales Your Majesty. Our last lesson entailed the gifts bestowed upon the Kings and Queens of Old," she explained to Caspian with an almost sheepish expression.

Comprehension flickered on Caspian's face then as he smiled indulgently down at the young fair-haired boy, stretching forward in eager anticipation.

It was like looking into a window from the past seeing Corl's wonderment. Caspian could almost picture the scene years before in Professor Cornelius's study. When with dark locks falling over round eyes gleaming with curiousity, he had stretched on his tip toes to peer over the top of the Professor's desk at the numerous scrolls and paintings, that depicted the legendary monarchs of old.

"And how do you like your lessons on the old tales?" Caspian asked.

Corl blinked as though waking from a trance, "they're brilliant!" he enthused.

Caspian placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, grasping the pommel lightly as he glanced to Aenna questioningly, seeking permission.

Aenna smirked slightly but tipped her head in acquiesce.

Corl gave a delighted cry in tandem with the ringing of the metal as Caspian unsheathed his sword.

Corl immediately rushed forward with eyes impossibly wide.

"Corl…" Aenna said quietly, her voice edged with caution.

"I know, I know," Corl called distractedly over his shoulder, "don't touch it."

Caspian and Drinian chuckled as Aenna rolled her eyes, a grin on her face.

"I was going to ask you actually could you remember what words were engraved on the sword?" Aenna said, arching a brow.

At a barely comprehensible speed Corl immediately rhymed off the infamous words, "…when Aslan bares His teeth winter meets its death, when He shakes his Mane we shall have spring again…!"

The three others laughed at Corl's enthusiasm as Corl grinned up at them all with unabashed pride.

"Really Aenna – that one was easy," he said, rolling his baby blue eyes.

Aenna reached out a hand to smooth through the messy golden locks falling across Corl's brow, "I'll have to think of harder ones next time then."

Corl turned to look up at Caspian and Caspian found himself immediately disarmed at the utterly imploring expression on the young boy's face.

"Please King Caspian can I hold it – just for a minute?! I'll be really careful!"

"Erm…"Caspian found himself completely at a loss for words as he stared down into the small earnest face.

"Corl…" her voice brought some clarity to the situation.

Corl whirled around to gaze up at his tutor with the same pleading expression, "please Aenna – I've been good, apart from nearly killing the King – I've been good!" Corl wheedled as he clasped his hands in front of him.

Aenna sucked in a rallying breath.

"And – I asked _really _nicely!" Corl interjected quickly. His blue eyes were so round and huge it seemed almost possible to drown in their innocence.

"Pleaseeee…"

Aenna sighed in defeat as she looked to Caspian.

"If His Majesty has no objection?" Aenna phrased carefully.

"None at all," Caspian immediately replied.

Corl held out his hand, palm outstretched.

Caspian frowned lightly in worry while Aenna hid a chuckle behind her hand diplomatically. "Maybe use both your hands Corl," Aenna suggested mildly, "seeing as it is such a special sword," she added tactfully.

Corl held out both his hands expectantly and Caspian carefully rested the broadside of the sword against the small palms that had tell-tale smudges of grass on them.

Corl's eyes were completely transfixed on the gleaming metal and Caspian made sure to hold the blade firmly in his hand by the hilt. The last thing he needed, especially considering current political sensitivities, was to injure King Avrain's grandson.

Caspian exchanged a fond glance with Drinian who was grinning once more; his earlier dreading mood having dissipated, though a sliver of worry still shone in his eyes fixed on Caspian.

"Do you think I'll have a sword like this one day?" Corl breathed in hopeful reverence.

Aenna chuckled, "I am sure you will little soldier," she replied fondly, her gaze doting as it rested on the young boy.

Caspian couldn't help but smile at the warmth evidently exuded from Aenna towards Corl. Her face was glowing with pride as she watched Corl and yet her hands hovered cautiously nearby; sure and steady, prepared for any calamity.

When Caspian looked up at her again he saw that Aenna's eyes weren't like Susan's as he had initially glimpsed. Susan's were the brightest blue; endless and daunting like Narnia's skies. One look from those eyes and Caspian felt brave with endless possibilities.

However Aenna's eyes were darker; more indigo than cerulean and they did not have the same sense of bright freedom that Susan's had. There was caution in Aenna's eyes just like there was in her waiting hands; and although mischief danced in their depths, it was evidently more used to being suppressed.

Caspian startled when he realised that during his lost musings Aenna's eyes had turned to him. Her head tilted curiously and a little expectantly.

Caspian shook his head quickly, averting his gaze to concentrate on the conversation that had been taking place while his thoughts had drifted.

"You must come to the show duels today then," Drinian encouraged at Caspian's shoulder.

Caspian sent a small smile to Corl who with a heavy sigh relinquished his hold on the sword. Caspian stood to re-sheathe his blade before addressing them.

"We were planning to Lord Drinian," Aenna replied easily as Corl looked longingly at the infamous sword from his tales. History lessons were undoubtedly his favourite.

"Well the duels begin presently do they not?" Caspian interrupted inquiringly, his gaze flickering to Drinian.

Drinian blinked blankly at his king for a moment before answering, "yes they do," he agreed.

Caspian nodded once, "then would you allow Lord Drinian and I to escort you to the games field?" Caspian addressed Aenna and Corl while Drinian's face registered a new degree of surprise.

Aenna smiled brightly at the invitation before she looked to Corl, "an escort from the Narnian King and Lord Drinian?" she mused aloud.

Corl grinned up at Aenna before his grin slid into a devious smirk, "Ressy will be so jealous," he muttered under his breath with a wicked cackle.

Aenna rolled her eyes slightly in fond exasperation, catching Drinian and Caspian's eyes in turn. They both returned her indulgent smile.

Aenna curtsied then formally, "we thank you for the invitation Your Majesty. We are honoured and accept it most graciously."

Caspian's lips quirked into a smile, "the honour is all ours to escort…" Caspian directed his gaze pointedly on Corl, "such an esteemed and upcoming soldier of Archenland royalty."

Corl's eyes grew round at the praise before he puffed out his bony ribcage with pride.

Aenna pressed her fingertips to her lips to stop her tremulous lips from breaking into a grin in keeping with the solemnity of Corl's demeanour.

"Shall we make our way then?" Drinian prompted them.

"By all means Lord Drinian," Aenna agreed, nudging Corl.

"Please Lady, I would be most grateful to you if you dispensed of my formal title. Drinian would be most welcome," Drinian said respectfully.

Aenna's indigo eyes registered a slight degree of surprise before she nodded accordingly, "by all means Drinian, I would be honoured."

Caspian grinned at the exchange knowing only too well how Drinian abhorred his formal title.

"You see Lady Aenna, Drinian has been at sea these past four months and sailors and pirates rarely bother with titles. His return to courtly manners is quite the adjustment," Caspian teased as Drinian rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Aenna chuckled lightly. "It seems we must find ways to help _Drinian_ reacquaint himself then," she mused airily, eyes twinkling.

Drinian snorted. "It appears the mischief of your wards has rubbed off on you Lady," he grinned.

Lady Aenna ducked her head, a grin on her lips as a light blush suffused her cheeks. "My apologies Drinian – "

"Pirates! – You fought pirates?!" Corl was gazing up at the dark-haired Captain now with a new-found reverence.

"Corl," Aenna called again lightly while Caspian and Drinian exchanged grins.

"I know you said never to interrupt others unless it was really really important," Corl rushed looking up emphatically at his tutor, "but Aenna – _pirates!_"

Aenna couldn't maintain her slightly reproving look as she grinned, nodding understandingly, "of course. Fighting pirates is evidently of the utmost importance," she agreed.

"Well I am glad to meet someone who appreciates how important fighting pirates is," Drinian said aloud, tilting his head slightly in respect towards Corl, a smirk teasing at his lips.

Corl looked up at Aenna again, looking confidently smug as he grinned.

A sudden long jovial blast of a horn blew somewhere off in the distance.

"The Games are starting soon," Drinian warned, before smiling as Corl bounced eagerly on his toes.

"Come on Aenna! I want to sit really close to see all the duels!" Corl tugged impatiently at Aenna's skirts.

"Yes little soldier," Aenna acquiesced, "go and fetch your cloak."

Corl whined, "Aenna!"

"I assure you Lady, the day is hot, there is no need for outer garments," Drinian said.

Aenna smiled, but her expression was strained. "Corl has been ill of late Drinian," she said quietly, "I would take no chances."

"Of course Lady, you must do what you deem fit for your wards."

Corl rushed off then to the adjacent adjoining room; the patter of his feet echoing.

"Has Corl's illness been serious?" Caspian queried when the little Archenland royal was out of earshot.

Aenna's expression was guarded again, cautious as were her eyes. Caspian smirked inwardly. Aenna was loyal to Archenland, to the proud royal family of King Avrain not to King Caspian or Narnia. She would admit no weakness of Archenland to him.

Yet, there was worry plain shining in her eyes and pinched her delicately drawn lips.

"I am afraid so," she finally relented quietly.

Drinian and Caspian exchanged worried glances as they heard Corl, having retrieved his cloak racing back towards them.

"Mistress Reani is the healer here at the Cair. I know of no better at her profession than she and adding to her credit she has raised five sons on her own since her husband's death. I would have her examine Corl if my Lady permits it?" Caspian said quietly as Corl reached them, already struggling with the clasp of his cloak.

A fond smile graced Aenna's face as she reached forth with nimble fingers to secure the clasp for her little ward.

Corl pouted stubbornly, "I'm not a baby," he muttered.

Aenna chucked his chin lightly when she finished, "nay little soldier. But even great Kings need help putting on their armour is that not so King Caspian?"

Caspian smiled as he nodded in agreement and Corl was instantly mollified.

The little bundle of energy was not still for long though as he was already darting for the door, skidding across the parquet floors with gleeful excitement. Caspian couldn't imagine the boy before him suffering from any illness.

"I thank you Your Majesty. I am only Corl's tutor though I love him dearly. I would ask your permission to bring your suggestion to Princess Nieva, Corl's mother?" Aenna murmured as Drinian opened the door for Corl.

"Of course, by all means," Caspian assured her, "and if I may be as bold as my friend – I'd request you call me simply Caspian."

Aenna's eyes widened in unadulterated shock. "Nay Your Majesty I could not," she blurted out immediately, before blushing heavily and dropping her gaze.

"Forgive me," Aenna murmured as Caspian smiled indulgently. "I have lived as part of the Archenland royal family for nigh on five years of my life. Never once have I been permitted to drop official titles. Indeed for the first year I referred to Corl as Lord."

Corl snorted as he looked up at Aenna, clearly having caught the end of her words.

"I hated when you had to call me Lord, Aenna," Corl said honestly. Aenna's expression relaxed once more into an affectionate smile. It seemed Corl was the perfect antidote for his tutor. "I don't know _little Lord_, I rather say you liked it sometimes," she teased.

Corl rolled his silver-blue eyes, attempting an aloof expression as they followed him out of the room. Corl at first walked proudly with a stiff air that was particularly reminiscent of his grandfather. However as the sounds of the growing crowds drifted in through the open windows Corl became impatient and his pompous gait was lost.

He skipped happily along the hallways, calling out to them impatiently, often disappearing. Cair Paravel was a daunting palace and often presented a maze to those unused to its halls.

Each time Aenna's brow would crease with the slightest line of consternation that would melt away at the appearance of her sunny-haired ward again.

"He is an exuberant little urchin," Drinian remarked as Corl reappeared once more, throwing them another grin.

Aenna chuckled lightly, "that, Drinian; is quite the understatement," she corrected, her brows contracting slightly as the hallway fell silent once more with Corl's disappearance.

"Corl," Aenna called; her voice straining to echo along the empty hallway.

Caspian peeked his head in the door he had last saw King Avrain's grandson disappear through. However the room presented only a dusty empty study. Though Caspian's trained eyes effortlessly noted the disturbances in the unsettled dust on the floor in the shape of small boot-prints.

Caspian exited the room ambling down the hall towards where Aenna was standing stationary.

"He was definitely…" Caspian began to say when Aenna silenced him by holding a firm finger to her lips as a signal for silence.

Caspian sketched a brow in silent surprise. It was a rare occasion when someone tried to silence the King of Narnia.

Aenna's finger moved from her lips then as she extended her arm to point.

Caspian followed her direction and noticed the small rounded toes of a pair of tawny boots sticking out from beneath a heavy tapestry.

He smirked slightly just as Drinian emerged from another room further down the hall, frowning thoughtfully as he shrugged helplessly.

Caspian repeated the gesture and Drinian almost laughed aloud at the sight only Aenna reiterated her point by pressing her finger once more firmly to her lips.

"I regret to inform you that I couldn't locate Corl," Drinian said mournfully then.

Aenna's eyes sparkled, "that is most unfortunate," she said emphatically, "whatever shall we do?"

"I propose we proceed to the Games and perhaps Corl is already there," Caspian said lightly.

The boots shifted nervously and Aenna bit back a smile.

"I agree King Caspian," she said, "lets to the Games and hope my Archenland soldier will appear shortly."

"Wait! Wait! – I'm here!"

The frantic cries were muffled as Corl fought to free himself from the swathing heavy tapestry.

Aenna chuckled lightly as they went to help free the little Archenland royal.

After a moment or two a blonde head of ruffled hair poked out. The small face was pink and the eyes round as Corl looked up at them all.

"I was only playing!" he told them earnestly before looking to Aenna with that same utterly pleading expression he had used on Caspian.

Caspian let out a long breath; wondering how Aenna ever managed to refuse the boy anything.

"You weren't _really _going to leave me Aenna?" Corl asked.

The teasing expression on Aenna's face morphed as she grasped the small chin between her thumb and forefinger firmly, "nay my little soldier. I would never willingly leave you."

Corl's expression immediately brightened once more then, "good," he announced with a grin, "because no one tells stories like you do Aenna."

Aenna released her hold on Corl and that was all the invitation Corl needed as he bounded off down the hallway again with renewed enthusiasm.

Aenna's brow creased again as vague worry shadowed her eyes.

"I'll fetch him and make sure he doesn't find himself in any mischief," Drinian said good-naturedly.

"An impossible task," Aenna warned Drinian teasingly, "Corl is likely to ensnare you in some mischief or other."

Caspian laughed. "I wouldn't worry. Drinian has a rather uncanny gift himself of causing mischief."

"Then I see Corl shall be in kindred company," Aenna murmured wryly as she tilted her head towards Drinian.

"You have my solemn word Lady that I will endeavour to keep Corl and myself out of all mischief until we reach the Games," Drinian solemnly swore, giving an unnecessary bow.

Aenna's eyes twinkled with laughter, "your word is only half fulfilled my lord if the boy in question is still creeping stealthily down halls."

Aenna's gaze flickered over Drinian's shoulder and the Captain turned just in time to see a fair head of hair disappear from sight.

"Duty and my solemn word compel me," Drinian said in parting.

Caspian and Aenna chuckled then as Drinian made his way swiftly down the hall towards where Corl had been lingering moments before with a rather mischievous expression on his small features.

"Lord Drinian is very kind to humour Corl so," Aenna remarked.

Caspian grinned in agreement. "He has numerous nieces and nephews who all adore and extol him as the greatest uncle."

"I can imagine," Aenna replied laughingly. "You also were very gracious to humour him Your Majesty," Aenna added softly. "When Corl is comfortable around people he forgets such things as propriety and dictated custom. I apologise for his somewhat unruly behaviour just now. I…"

However Caspian held up a hand before Aenna could continue.

"Corl is just a boy; something I understand and appreciate well. My Professor would tell you he is not half as troublesome as I was at his age."

Aenna laughed soundly at them, relief easing her features, "not all nobles are so tolerant of boisterous children," she murmured vaguely.

"Oh?" Caspian sketched a brow and Aenna blushed heavily.

"Forgive me Your Majesty, I spoke out of turn. Tis not my place to remark on those above my station."

Caspian frowned lightly, "then whose place is it to criticise high born nobles and even kings when they are wrong?"

Aenna looked at Caspian in mild surprise, "I have never met a noble that questioned their own infallibility."

Caspian scoffed laughingly. "Professor Cornelius would have rapped my knuckles if I told him I believed myself infallible."

Aenna chuckled softly again, the look of mild astonishment still reflected in her eyes, "your Professor seems a wise man," she murmured.

Caspian grinned enigmatically, "he certainly is," he agreed, just as he and Aenna stepped out from the labyrinth of the Cair's winding passageways and into the main greeting halls.

* * *

I apologise again and again for the very long wait – it was Aenna. Her character has changed so many times and so drastically that I was becoming so frustrated with her. I had this chapter finished a while ago but just as I was reading over it before I posted it, I changed it all again. So once more, my apologies and I can only hope the changes I made were worth the wait.

Thanks to new favourites / &amp; / follows!

Replies to reviews;

Just Me; Thanks for the review! Oh, I don't want to give anything away :P

LillyZ; Thanks for the review! I'm really glad to hear you're enjoying the story!

sarahwood; Thanks for the review! Susan will be appearing, don't worry! But in the meantime, here's the OC :P

W.H; Thanks for the review; I'm glad to hear you like my characterisation of Drinian. All will be revealed...in time :P!


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