Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia are originally written and created by C. S. Lewis. Everything you recognize is his creation, not mine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made.

A/N: Yes, I'll keep throwing one-shots at you. This one is a little out of my comfort-zone; I don't make a habit of writing these kind of things, but I decided that--since I signed up for a challenge--I might just as well make it challenging. So, for your entertainment, I give you my response to the third Drabble Challenge on susancaspian! (Prompt: White)

Silver and White

White. That was the only word Susan could find to describe the whole of it.

Good.

Pure.

Innocent.

Fragile.

White.

The whole world was asleep under a thick, glittering white blanket of snow. It was fresh, Susan could tell by the fine layer covering even the thinnest of branches. That layer usually fell off quickly, especially in a forest where the trees had a habit of moving. But they were perfectly still now, as though keen to hold onto their beauty as long as possible. The result was stunning. The normally beautiful land of Narnia was now positively breathtaking. The world seemed more innocent somehow, when it was covered under a blanket of snow; all of the dead brown leaves were hidden from the eye, and all the sombre, naked trees were decrated. Snow could even make a battlefield seem lovely.

Susan leaned over the balcony of the restored Cair Paravel. The sea was the only thing that wasn’t still and white; the salt and it’s sheer mass making it hard for the water to freeze. As Susan stood watching, a robin landed on the railing on the balcony. It was a common Beast, not a Talking Beast; Susan could tell by its small size and the way it hopped around unabashed in the presence of the Gentle Queen of Narnia. Then the robin took off again and Susan looked at the small imprints it had left in the snow. That was the problem with white; it was too easily blemished.

“There you are.”

A voice sounded behind Susan and she looked around. She didn’t need to; she could recognize Caspian’s voice anywhere, but she smiled at him and focussed her attention back on the scenery.

“I’ve been looking for you. Did you not enjoy yourself inside?”

“I did. I just wanted to escape the crowd for a little while.”

It was Peter’s birthday today, and the nobles and royalties had come from all the corners of the world bearing expensive gifts and extensive praise for the High King. The silence that should have been in this winter land was broken by the sounds of laughter, the clinks of glasses and the music by the minstrels.

“I see.” Caspian walked to the balcony to stand next to her, and erased the tracks of the robin completely when he rested his elbows on the railing. He wasn’t as captivated by the sight as Susan was. She noticed he kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “What’s on your mind?” He asked after a short moment of silence.

“I was thinking how the White Witch had entirely the wrong name.” Susan replied promptly and, judging from his expression, this was clearly not the type of answer Caspian had expected.

“How so?”

“Because there was nothing white about the White Witch… except for the fact that she was, in fact, white.” Susan replied, en then laughed at both her own utter inability to express herself and Caspian’s expression, which had changed from curiosity to total confusion. “White is more than a colour.” She explained herself. “It symbolises the good against evil. White is calm, soothing and peaceful. It’s beauty and purity, but also innocence and it is easily spoilt. The White Witch had none of that. She ought to have been called the Ice Witch. I think ‘White’ is too much of a comp-” Susan broke her speech off when two strong arms wrapped around her, and a warm, moist breath tickled her ear as Caspian whispered.

“You think too much, Susan Pevensie.”

A shiver—quite unrelated to the chilly air—ran up Susan’s spine. She turned around in Caspian’s arms, allowing him to hold her completely, and hid her face in his chest.

“You’re getting cold.” Caspian said, no longer whispering. “Come back inside, Susan.”

“Not yet.” Susan didn’t very much feel like trading the peaceful beauty for the loud lords and ladies inside expecting entertainment. She felt Caspian’s hand drawing circles on her back, and eventually disappearing into her hair, pulling the strands softly.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight? Caspian asked in a low voice. Susan smiled a wide smile that was invisible to Caspian because she was so much smaller than him.

“No. Do tell me more.” Susan knew that she had nothing to complain about when it came down to looks, but she never regarded herself as particularly stunning. Caspian, however, made her feel as though the was the most beautiful being to have walked the face of the earth, and the never got tired of the thrill of hearing him say it.

“Well, you do. You seem to brighten every room simply by being there. It’s your smile mostly, and the way you carry yourself; calm and collected in a way that I hope I’ll manage too one day. It’s what you wear…” Susan looked down at her deep red ball gown that contracted sharply with the virgin white snow. “It covers everything and yet it hints at so much.”

There was a lust in his voice that grew more prominent with his last few words, and from where Susan had her face pressed against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat pick up slightly. Excitement ran through her, but she held still, absorbing Caspian’s words.

“It’s your soft lips.” Susan licked them. “It’s your warm hair.” He buried his hands in them. “It’s your cool eyes…” Susan finally looked up at him. Her cool eyes met his warm ones; they held love and something very much like desire. “And sometimes I think you’re too perfect to last.”

“Like white.” Susan muttered, standing on her toes to get closer to him. Caspian was halfway the process of banding towards her when there was a sudden glint in his eyes.

“Not like white, no.” He grinned, and moved one hand from her hair to cup her face. “I don’t think you’re quite as innocent as that.” He gave her a brief peck on her smiling lips. “More like silver.” With a quick move he took his second hand out of her hair and placed it in the small of her back, forcing her against him. At the same time he closed the small gap between them and pressed his lips firmly against hers. His mouth was hot and Susan gasped at the intensity of the kiss; a bolt of desire running through her towards her lower abdomen. She returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm and her hands travelled towards his back; moving, rubbing and exploring. She felt his tongue asking for entrance and responded readily, rapidly losing herself in the kiss.

Caspian strayed from her mouth and began trailing kisses on her jaw line. He skin felt cold and exposed to the freezing air where his hot mouth had left it, and this only added to her excitement. She rolled her head back under his ministrations, and Caspian used the opportunity to trail his kisses down, past her ear, her neck, her throat. The skin felt both hot and cold when he left it, and finally Susan could not longer bear it. She kissed him again, fiercely; her tongue demanding entrance again, rather than requesting, and her hands flew up into his hair. Caspian’s hands, however, were travelling down from where they had rested on the small of her back and cupped her bottom, lifting her up so he could reach her better. He sat her down on the railing of the balcony, and Susan put her legs around his waist, now clinging to him completely. It wasn’t until the snow melted and the cold liquid drenched her dress that she realised where they were and how easy it was for anyone to run into them. She broke the kiss by leaning back slightly, and hot, moist air washed over her face as Caspian panted to catch his breath.

“We need to take this elsewhere.” Susan managed, her body disagreeing with the sudden lack of contact. Caspian didn’t seem any more willing to stop than her, but he nodded and took her hand, leading the way to more private quarters.