be_themoon: I want a better world. By me. (Narnia: how far we've come)
[personal profile] be_themoon
This is so very very strange for me.


Out of all the ancient Kings and Queens, Caspian finds Lucy the most approachable. Peter apparently hates him, Edmund is quiet and always with Peter (and his eyes are extremely unsettling), and Susan tends to make him stammer. Lucy is younger than them, and more joyful, and her family seems to have forgotten that she’s there some of the time. So when he finds her watching the sky the first night after she gets there, he stops on his rounds and comes up to her.

“Do you know what they called Peter in the height of our reign?” she asks without turning around, and he freezes, startled. He hadn’t realized she had the same uncanny perception that the older three had.

“He was High King Peter the Magnificent, wasn’t he?” he ventures when she doesn’t say anything else.

“He was the King of Summer,” she says softly. “You don’t understand us, do you Prince Caspian?”

“I must admit myself… confused,” he says carefully.

“Sit down, then,” she orders. “This could take a while.” He sits awkwardly. She’s going to tell him a story, he thinks, and the idea is absurd because they’re fighting a war until she opens her mouth and begins. “’Then hear this, O Narnia, for Aslan the Lion sung Narnia into being, and when he comes there is peace.’”

-------------------

“And then?” he asks, because he wants to know what happened after the Great Lion killed the Witch. Lucy is staring now at nothing, like he has seen Edmund do, and when she answers her voice is heavy.

“We were crowned,” she says. “And Peter was Brightfire and Bloodsteel and Coldheart, and Susan was Heartsbane and Widowmaker and Redheart, and Edmund was Shadowking and Silvertongue and Blackheart, and I was the Queen of Spring.”

“But you left,” he says, and though he doesn’t mean it to be an accusation, it is. She looks down on him where he sits on a rock, and it is a woman’s smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Yes,” she says. “We left, and we came back, and we will leave again.” She stares at her hands, turning them this way and that like he has seen the others doing. “But it was not our will, and it is not our choice.”  She goes still, and he could swear that she is listening to the land around her. He waits until she stirs again to speak.

“Why does Peter hate me?” he asks, because she must know the answer, she has to.

“Peter is Narnia,” Lucy says. “And the land does not forgive easily, nor does it ever forget.” She pauses, and shifts in the darkness. “’And lo, let their sins be visited unto the third generation,’” she says, and she is quoting something. “‘Nay, until the fourth, until their blood ripens our crops and paints our lands bright.’” Caspian draws in his breath sharply.

“He’s going to kill me, isn’t he,” he says, suddenly feeling so certain.

“No he won’t,” Lucy says. “I have told Narnia what it is, and she will forgive you.” Caspian isn’t sure how that is supposed to stop Peter from killing him, but he accepts it because Lucy said it, and she doesn’t lie. “Go to bed, Caspian,” Lucy says gently.

“You should sleep too, My Lady,” Caspian says, and she smiles at him, radiant like the sun.

“I have to stay and listen to who I am,” she says almost apologetically, and he doesn’t know how this is an explanation but accepts it anyways because Lucy said it.

----------------------

He finds her standing by the carvings of herself the night before the duel.

“Will Peter win?” he asks. She doesn’t turn around.

“The Calormenes called him Man Who Is A Sword,” she says almost dreamily. “It was meant as a compliment. Later it turned into a curse.” Her fingers linger over a drawing of Peter and Edmund in battle together, bodies heaped around them. “He had other names, too. Bloodman. Shadowdeath, though they used that for Edmund more. He Who Is Death.” She pauses, and laughs. “That was the Calormenes too. They called me She Who Is Life at first, before they tried to invade us.”

“What did they call you then?” Caspian asks, unable to resist asking even though he doesn’t actually want to know the answer, and she smiles long and slow, all teeth and eyes.

“Stoneheart,” she says, and she is glowing and she too is a killer after all, he thinks. “Well, that and just Hellcat,” she adds pragmatically, and she is a thirteen year old girl tracing scenes of death painted on tunnel walls.

He leaves.

----------------------

The night after his coronation, he finds her listening to the land again, standing in a corridor of the castle with her head cocked.

“Do you do that in England too?” he asks.

“There is nothing to listen to there,” she says, and kisses him.

------------------------

It doesn’t feel like Lucy beneath him, like somehow he’s found a wild animal instead of the young girl he thought he knew. And she doesn’t say anything, but her hands on him are possessive and firm.

-----------------------------

Later, when she is calmly redressing, Caspian is still staring in shock, because she can’t even be fourteen yet and where did she learn that?!

“Oh, honestly, do stop staring,” she says, beginning to braid her hair. “You aren’t my first man, and Peter long since stopped caring who I take to bed.”

“But I was your first man,” he protests.

“Body switch, remember?” she says. “Anyways,” she adds after a moment, staring at herself in the mirror, “It’s not like it was actually me and you.”

He is bemused again, as he so often is by her.

“Then who was it?” he demands.

“You and Narnia,” she says, and opens the door to leave. “Though that isn’t to say I would mind it being just you and me,” she adds thoughtfully, and then is gone.

----------------------------

When Susan kisses him, she whispers “For you, not for Narnia,” against his neck, and he wonders if it truly is, because he sees Lucy smiling and he remembers the night before and he thinks that maybe none of them can really hold love for anything but Narnia and each other. So he kisses Susan back and knows that if it’s for love of Narnia doesn’t matter, because if that’s not love what is?

----------------------------

That night he listens to the hills, and when he speaks, they answer.

Date: 2009-03-19 08:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] turkeyish.livejournal.com
It doesn’t feel like Lucy beneath him, like somehow he’s found a wild animal instead of the young girl he thought he knew.

Guuuuurrrlll. My favorite part!

Date: 2009-03-20 12:47 am (UTC)
ext_80109: (Narnia: Team Kickass)
From: [identity profile] be-themoon.livejournal.com
XD That's really how I see her sometimes... she's absolutely wild and free and no one, not even Peter or Edmund or Susan, could ever keep her fettered. She does what she wants when she wants and if others don't like it she really doesn't care. Unless it affects Narnia. Only then.

Thank you! <3

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