Yes, a new story from me. Multi-chapter this one will be, with lots of action and plotting characters. In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader it is mentioned that Caspian has been dealing with pesky Giants from Ettinsmoor... so I decided to show how it might look, plus I allowed myself to bring back the four Pevensies!

Some characters from "Narnia's New Age" might make an entrance here, though this story is, naturally, not at all linked to it.

So here is the first chapter, it introduces us to two main problems that will then fuel the entire main plot. Plus, of course, there will be Suspian, and possibly some other pairings. Possibly.

Enjoy and don't forget to let me know how you like it, though it's only the beginning.

Caspian found himself hiding from his own Lords of the Council. It felt so very ridiculous that, as he slipped into a dark corner, distastefully counting the approaching footsteps, heel against stone floors, he felt caught up between sickness and snorting with laughter in a manner that Doctor Cornelius definitely would classify as most un-kingly.

Five steps… six steps… seven steps, eight steps, the peak of the noise, the brush of silhouette before his vision… eight steps… seven steps… six steps… five steps…The unwelcome Lord retreated into another corridor, while the sound of his footsteps retreated into a calming silence.

Caspian released some air, feeling both tired and energetic at the same time, and he slipped out of his poor hiding place, that yet proved itself perfect enough for the Lord not to find him. Perhaps the main victory factor was that the Lord didn’t suppose his King could be hiding from him. He shook his head off slightly, notching his chin up, more to add himself the courage of facing another day than for a kingly stature, and he moved down the corridor, silent like a ghost, like usually.

In the recent months, he found that some of the Lords (or rather most of them) and many of some higher ranked servants, as well as some advisors and generally anyone who had access to him, were becoming quite a nuisance. Everything would be quite perfect – or at least as perfect as the circumstances would allow – if it weren’t for the fact that all those mentioned people became almost obsessed with saying that Caspian should take a wife. If they were decent, subtle and kind, it wouldn’t be half so bad, but around a month ago, his own Council welcomed him with somewhat awkwardly brought up collective suggestion that he perhaps should take a look at the list of eligible maidens that they composed together. Had it not been for the fact that he was already seated on his throne, he would most definitely have slumped down onto the floor.

But in truth… it was not as amusing and irritating as he tried to make it out to be in his own thoughts. In fact, it was painful and hurtful and… and… and agonizing. How could they… they just weren’t able to understand him, he needed time…! His heart was broken, and he was still trying to collect all of the pieces, not to even mention the healing process… And the more he looked for those still missing pieces, the more obvious it became that he may never find them.

Susan.

This one word, this one name, this one sound tore a hole in his soul and shattered his heart all anew whenever it was mentioned or whenever he thought it. Whenever he remembered. The Gentle Queen… the Queen of Golden Age… the Archer Queen… Susan. Susan. Susan, Susan, SusanSusanSusan…

He repeated the name so long in his thoughts till he was lost in it and in the pain of memories. For a moment he could see her smile at him, he could see her standing just before him, beckoning to him silently, her smile radiant, thrillingly blue eyes gazing at him with softness and brilliance of a summer’s morning…! And then she was gone. He could see her sad, yearning gaze as she looked back at him, glanced one last time while his lips still tingled with her kiss, and then she was gone through the portal Aslan created so cruelly and benevolently.

Why did she have to go…? There was not even one good reason for him, not one. Maybe she was destined for some mission in that other world, that strange place called England. But that didn’t matter, if her heart belonged here, she should have stayed here…! She had told him so herself, she confessed that she wishes to stay… he could still see the sadness in her eyes when she whispered that to him on his coronation ball.

It seemed strange… life was empty without her. There always was a sound inside him, ever since he was born, ever since he could remember. It was even, sometimes quicker, mostly when he was exhausted or excited, but it always was even. It counted time, like a clock. And when he saw her, he realized this sound was his very own heart… she changed the rhythm of his heartbeat forever, since that first moment he saw her in the woods, and as he grew to know her bit by bit, his heart only affirmed itself in this new rhythm.

And then she left. And the clock inside him broke. It stopped on the very last time he saw her, the very last minute he spent while knowing she was with him, in the same world, beside him. And it refused to go on. Now his heartbeat was dull, empty. And it always hurt, each beat. Sometimes more, sometimes less… when he was busy, engrossed in something, it would hurt less, almost not at all… but it hurt. Unstoppably.

And there was no master to set the clock right again. And what was right anyway…? The rhythm from before he knew her? Or from since he knew her? The latter, definitely. His heart flamed and soared when he thought that, yes, this new rhythm definitely was the right one!

But that meant it would never be right… Aslan himself said she would never return… The valiant, Gentle Queen who fought for her people, for Narnia, even though it was thirteen hundred years different from the Narnia she once reigned.

With the start of his reign, he lost his love. The love of his life, the brave, faithful, courageous, kind, favorable, Gentle Queen. It hurt him to remember all that. He wished they were given more time together… something might have happened between them if they were. And this was why he needed time… he needed time to heal, and to stop imagining the endless things and situations that could occur if Susan stayed in Narnia, all the possibilities of sweet life that never happened. He needed to get through this and heal.

And this, for some reason, his Council couldn’t understand. They just didn’t understand he was mourning for the loss of the love of his life… Even though he knew her for two months and lost her a year and a half ago, his heart was still seared with vivid, fresh love for her, and he knew it would always be. Their farewell kiss… it spoke of everything that they never found words to voice to each other. With this kiss, he knew for more than certain that he loved her. And because of that, he would never be able to move on.

“Your Majesty?”

He almost jumped at the sound of Lord Tivros’ voice.

“Yes?” he asked, praying for his voice to be normal, while his heart throbbed with pain.

“Your Majesty, may I speak plainly?”

“That will be either appreciated or unpleasant,” Caspian answered, his voice tired just as his heart. He couldn’t care less for what the man had to say to him.

“Majesty, the Council is growing restless… we have December, it has been a year and a half since you took the throne, and not once you have displayed any interest in the matter of getting married or at least the matter of courtship…” the Lord started, not at all following his own request of speaking plainly. Caspian’s tired heart was aching more and more, as he knew what subject was approaching, and only the tiredness of another sleepless night kept him from running away. “Your Highness, perhaps it is time you at least invited several of the ladies and princesses we were telling you of…”

Caspian’s throat was dry, and each breath was hard to take, his chest aching with every one of them. He wanted to go to sleep. Sleep and wake up in the time where he and Susan could be together…

“No, my Lord,” he said simply, quietly.

“But… Your Majesty, why?”

“Because as I said before, when I am ready to lean in the direction of marriage, I will give such a signal myself.”

His tongue felt numb from repeating those same words over and over again.

“Majesty, truly, I am sorry for your loss, we all are aware of your infatuation with the Queen of Old, but for all the gods’ sake, it is time for you to move on, as you knew her barely for two months!” the Lord said angrily, and Caspian turned to him, a pang of fury searing through his blood, darkening his vision with rage. “She could not have been more than a mere attraction, there is no sense to bring disturbance and uncertainty to the kingdom over her!”

He was furious, his mind lashing out and killing the Lord right where he stood, but he somehow managed to restrain himself.

“Guard your tongue,” he hissed furiously.

“Your Majesty, there is no use pretending it is otherwise, the kingdom is concerned with your lack of interest in marriage, whereas we all know that your fleeting affair is not coming back as the lion said.”

“Lord Tivros,” came a voice, just when he was about to lash out. A voice he recognized and was calmed with. “Lord Tivros, please do not upset our King, I say this as his subject and his tutor, as well as the member of the same Council you sit in,” Doctor Cornelius talked as he approached, his breath a little hurried, as he apparently was climbing some stairs to get here.

“I merely-”

Caspian gave a brisk, jerky move with his hand, furiously silencing the Lord.

“Please, Majesty, do go and calm yourself,” the kind Professor said, his eyes sparkling in a friendly manner from above his round glasses. “I believe your audiences start in a few moments.”

Caspian nodded, grateful to his tutor for appearing in the right moment. He hoped to later relax in the inside of his cozy, calm study that seemed to be always half asleep, stories seeping from all the piled books in there, blending with the dust glinting in sunlight.

As the young King left, the Professor turned to the Lord.

“Now, my Lord, perhaps you shall be good enough to tell me why have you been deliberately upsetting our King?” he asked in his deep and husky voice, always a tad nasal, so very perfect for telling stories that enchanted Caspian ever since he was little.

“I was not upsetting His Majesty, I was trying to get through with the dire need that the kingdom has for him at leas trying to choose a suitable fiancé,” the Lord answered.

“Why in a manner that upsets him then?” Doctor Cornelius asked.

“I am looking for a way that will reach him,” Lord Tivros grew irritated. “So far, each way failed, one by one, and as much as some give up, I intend to give Narnia peace, which is having our King at least pretend he is leaning in towards marriage, for goodness sake! People are worried! I do know he is young, but it is customary for a ruler to display some interest in the matter of marriage almost as soon as he takes the throne, just declare himself willing to marry and then wait as long as he pleases, but our King has done nothing in this direction, no declaration of willingness to marry whatsoever, and the kingdom is growing disturbed, for this means no declaration in interest of providing an heir! If he at least displayed interest in a mistress…!”

“My dear Lord, while I understand your concerns, I more than definitely cannot approve of your attitude towards our ruler, as well as your lack of consideration for his concerns,” Doctor Cornelius spoke, his voice a blend of natural softness with some stern tunes that now matched the warning gleam of steel in his kind eyes. “You know as well as I – and if you don’t, I shall think you a fool – that Narnia’s welfare, safety and happiness is always first and foremost on our King’s mind, that he loses sleep at night and peace at day to provide his kingdom with everything it needs and more. In fact, he is close to spoiling a kingdom, which is something rather unheard of. But as much as he can do everything and more than in his power to ensure stability and safety in the matters of economy, peace treaties, infrastructure and other matters, he can not do that one thing you demand from him. To him marriage is more than a mere contract, and has more purposes than producing an heir. This is a matter of heart, not writing papers and signing orders. I can assure you he is very much set on providing Narnia with an heir when the right time comes, but for now he is not willing to declare any interest in that matter that he does not feel. His heart has been broken by the decision of Aslan himself, and he needs to find righteousness in that fact. He is free to take as much time as he needs. And as per a mistress, they rarely serve to give an heir, and once more, King Caspian seeks more than what a mistress can give. And what he seeks, is strictly connected to the reason why he needs time to make peace with Alsan and himself now.”

The Lord gazed at the Doctor with a blend of scorn and anger in his eyes.

“It is all very noble and beautiful, but does not solve the problem,” he said.

“My dear Lord, if you do not like our new King’s ways of ruling, why have you stayed when Aslan offered a new start in another world to all of those who were willing?” the Doctor retaliated.

“I have stayed because I intend to keep things in check,” Lord Tivros answered. “I want to make sure Narnia is ruled well!”

The Doctor sighed.

“Unfortunately, I can do nothing to formally stop you from pestering King Caspian with your untactful approach to the personal matters to his life,” he said. “But bear in mind, my good Lord, that I neither can stop King Caspian from dealing with you in a way that is dictated to him by his temper once you push him over the edge far enough.”

There was a moment of silence as the Lord digested what he just heard. The Professor inclined his head.

“Have a good day, sir,” and left unhurriedly.

As always when feeling ill with himself, Caspian went to visit his good friend, Trufflehunter in his den. Caspian still remembered when he was a guest there for the first time – with his head bandaged, still mightily sore from smashing it against a massive branch at Destrier’s full speed, and with a Black Dwarf insisting upon finishing him off.

Today he was feeling particularly ill with himself, though the swamp of that illness was not deep enough for Trufflehunter to be unable of fixing it with his excellent soup, tea, and charming voice carrying friendly words of advice and consolation.

Caspian rode to Trufflehunter on Destrier, dressed in his thick, winter clothes and wearing a cape with a warm, furry rim to keep him from freezing. He was a Telmarine, a man made to live under scorching sun and in grand heat, battle in the searing temperature of mid-summer. Winter, and especially the late December snowfall, was the time when Telmarines stayed in their homes and fed mostly off some supplies they made through the warmer part of the year specially for the purpose of not having to go out in winter too frequently.

For some reason, winter came earlier to Narnia this year. Maybe it was the reason of Old Narnia coming awake… maybe a strange jump caused by the White Witch appearing briefly. No one could tell. The fact was that it was mid-November, and already as searing cold as in late December, just without snow.

But Caspian learned to love the spicy cold, winter Narnia. It was Narnia, after all, and he loved it with all his heart. Everything was different than in summer, trees almost bare, having shed nearly all of their leaves. There was much more space on the fields and in the forest, as all the bushes had turned into curls of naked branches. The smells were different, the cold, spicy air driving right through the nose, laced with freezing trace of humidity, and rich with an occasional hint of smoke coming from the chimneys in the Telmarine city. It was time of different colors, beige, brownish grey and silver reigned over the land, specked with darkness of twines and branches, the sky brushed with smudges of pearly clouds that allowed the dim platinum of sun to seep through, delivering a rare hint of gold to the landscape.

The horse pranced on through the cold, hooves beating against the ground, Caspian’s hair flying coldly behind his head, and he could see his own breath as it steamed from his mouth, swept away by the wind of Destrier’s speed and vanishing, swallowed by coldness. Yes, winter Narnia was beautiful.

Caspian’s spirit bettered as he raced down the cold forest, the taunting worries have been culled by the speed and frosty wind, frozen and less bothering than on a daily matter. His heart outstretched it’s wings, and though it was far from being ready to fly, it kept them outstretched, delighting in relief of being able to do that much, without pain slashing down at it and forcing it to retract the wings.

He pulled back Destrier’s reigns, forcing him to a halt before a familiar looking tree with a small door just above it’s roots. He dismounted, patted Destrier on the neck, and approached the door across the cold ground. He knocked, and waited for an answer, hoping to see Mr. and Mrs. Badger in fine health.

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Badger. About half a year ago, Trufflehunter had married, to a lovely lady Badger named Berrytail. She was a dear person, very motherly and loving, and whenever Caspian enjoyed her company, he couldn’t help but think that in her manners of love and motherly fuss she had to greatly resemble the Mrs. Beaver that the Pevensie siblings told him about, Lucy giggling when Edmund in quiet voice related the story of Peter hiding from Mrs. Beaver for the whole day, as she was set on feeding him up, for he seemed ‘too skinny’. Personally, out of the two Pevensie brothers, Caspian would sooner attach the description to Edmund, and he was more than certain there was some story his best friend carefully and thoughtfully neglected to tell.

Best friend… something, or rather someone, that Caspian never had as he treaded the path of his life, and in Edmund Pevensie, he found it almost within the first week of their acquaintance. There was something about the Just King that made Caspian trust him. And there had to be something about them both that drew them together, for they both were well aware of the deep, strong bond that was creating itself between them, and the thread of initial understanding had swiftly turned into a sailor’s rope. Maybe it were the right personality features they shared, while they contradicted, or rather complimented one another with others. They both were witty, with a spark of mischief, and Caspian was fairly sure that Edmund pulled just as many pranks in his childhood, like he himself in his own time. And maybe it was the dark stain on each of them. They both had seen the evil, were dipped in it’s very source, and fought for breath in great pains, only to finally emerge from the black pool of horrors, though not without sacrifices or scars to haunt them later. Edmund was in league with the White Witch. Caspian killed his own people, slaughtering the men that were of his country, his rightful subjects.

Edmund the traitor and Caspian the Telmarine. Maybe it was all this together that made them such good, best friends.

But now, he was gone. And Caspian had best friend no more. He was gone, along with bubbly, merry Lucy that Caspian loved as the long wanted little sister that he never had, and with Peter, the eldest sibling, with whom Caspian had a rough start, but after the three weeks spent after the Revolution, in the Telmarine castle, they were beginning to get along quite well, serving each other with help and advice, growing to admit each other’s greatness.

And Susan…

A horrible pain yanked at his heart, and a tear escaped his eye, and he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with the tremendous cold and freezing wind that currently blew into his face.

Susan was gone, too. His love, his only chance for true happiness… All his life, he was concerned about the thought of marriage, thinking it a chore necessary to produce an heir, to live with a woman he wouldn’t love, perhaps even like too much, chosen for him by his uncle or the Council, making two unhappy – himself and his wife. And perhaps even the child. And then, Susan came into his life, making him feel whole, casting brightness over his entire world, making each feeling and emotion even more vivid, seeped through his love for her. If there was any woman he’d ever consider marrying, it was her…

He felt his throat close at the thought, and a strange exhale tugged at his lungs, and as he gazed at his own steamy breath through the teary eyes, he understood it was a sob. The feeling of the life he didn’t manage to share with Susan, but both of them secretly yearned for, squeezed his heart with pain.

Was this too much to ask for the happiness?! Too much?!

His heart was stabbed and ripped from his chest whenever he thought of what he had lost without even being given a chance to experience it. Susan was someone so unique, constructed of so many things, events and features, each of them precious like a tear that had turned into most captivating crystal, and he needed her to live…

It was true, no matter how much he tried to avoid it, flee from it. He needed her to live. When she appeared, she completed him, made him feel a whole person, gave him a way to feel joy fully and utterly. And when she left, a piece of him, a large piece nestled deep within his heart, at the very core of his being, had been chipped off. Only this time, he fully felt the lack of it, unlike before.

The door opened with a pleasant creak, and he called a friendly expression upon his face, hoping that his friends will blame the tears and frown on the whipping cold and fast ride.

“Oh, Caspian!” Berrytail smiled widely, her amber eyes very warm as she beckoned to him with a black paw. “Do come in, dear, don’t stay outside on the cold, for you it must be truly inhuman! Come in, come in!”

Her hospitality that she shared with her husband, was warmer than the fire that cracked merrily upon the logs in the fireplace. Happily, he relaxed himself in the cozy warmth of the house, smiling when Berrytail talked motherly of the dangers of cold and flu that a poor, hot-blooded Telmarine boy was submitted to when riding such a long way in this cold. He undid the buckle under his neck, taking off the fur-rimmed cloak, and he hung it at a very well known hook that he always used when visiting his friends in winter or on a rainy day.

“Trufflehunter came out to collect truffles… it is the beginning of season, you know,” Berrytail said, as she already bustled about the kitchen. “Go ahead and take a seat, dear, he should be back in a moment. In the meantime, have some soup, I just finished making it.

“Oh, I do not wish to be a bother…” Caspian immediately said. As much as he would give his best shield for a bowl of the soup made by either Mr. or Mrs. Badger, he didn’t want to eat them off of their supplies that he was sure they were piling up for winter very carefully.

“Nonsense, Caspian,” Berrytail waved a casual paw, and placed a wooden bowl of soup before him. “Here, eat up, and don’t you dare leave even a thimbleful,” she threatened, to which he chuckled. “When you finish, we will talk about second helping.”

Yes, she definitely was like Mrs. Beaver.

They talked smoothly, enjoying each other’s company, of simple matters, such as everyday life and some petit daily problems. Caspian was grateful that she didn’t go into the sphere of his love life. In fact, neither Berrytail or Trufflehunter ever seemed interested in opening the matter, but at the same time he saw, he could feel that they would be here to listen to him, had he chosen to open up for them. He appreciated that very, very much. They were great friends.

Unfortunately, not all people were as kind, subtle and understanding in his personal matters. His Council the least of all, probably. They truly pushed their actions over the edge when, about five months ago, Caspian retired, worn out, for bed, entered his bedchamber, undoing his shirt on the way, and found an utterly naked, smiling, pretty girl seated in a soft chair. There was a moment of absolute break in his mind, a gap that he never could fill with recalled memories, most probably because there was a gap in his mind at that moment back then. The shock was so great that he couldn’t even imagine what sort of face he made, for he genuinely had no idea. When he finally restored any life functions, he bowed with courteous gallantry, excused himself, exited civilly, and then raged at those Lords he knew were responsible for sending that girl there to him, clearly with an order to please him in any manner he would demand. He stormed at the Lords with a roar he didn’t know he possessed, and then regretted discovering it, for he suffered from a sore throat on the next day.

Such incident never occurred again, and some of the Lords were rather frightened to even touch the subject of him getting a betrothed or a mistress for about two weeks, which was a welcome relief. The Lords responsible for the event were saved from Caspian’s bloodthirsty rage only by Trumpkin who, chortling at the entire situation secretly, persuaded him to spare them, for that way he could torment them longer. Trumpkin found Caspian’s reaction to the whole happening very amusing, to which Caspian grew irritated again. It was not as if he had never seen a naked woman before, but the livid outrage that his Council performed such a thing on him.

“Good morning, Caspian,” Trufflehunter’s soft and scratchy voice sounded as he came back, carrying a basket of truffles in his paw. “It is so good to see you, what brings you here?”

“A need to visit old friends,” Caspian smiled, taking the basket from the Badger, and passing it to Berrytail.

“It is always good to see you in our home,” Trufflehunter said, his sweet and wise eyes lit up as he sat down at the table, next to Caspian. “How are you faring?”

“Good, though sometimes I think I’d fare better without my Council,” Caspian answered with a sigh. “They tire me… once they are helpful, and once they are a malicious obstacle on the way to sensibility.”

“Ah, but it is good to keep around those that give at least one good advice against a hundred useless ones,” Trufflehunter said wisely, resting his smooth-clawed paw on Caspian’s wrist.

Caspian smiled, knowing his friend was right.

“There is also the case of the Giants from Ettinsmoor… they are growing restless…” Caspian bit his lower lip, his gaze staring into the blind distance, as always when he was concerned, or tearfully focused on the past.

“Is it all because of the privileges they held during the White Witches reign again?” Trufflehunter asked, some annoyance at the Giants laced into his voice.

“Yes, it is…” Caspian answered.

“Why, this is an outrage!” Trufflehunter growled, the fur on the back of his neck rising to a vertical position.

“Oh, please, give the politics a rest, you two, especially those nasty Giants,” Berrytail said, placing a blueberry pie on the table.

“Sorry, Mrs. Badger,” Caspian grinned apologetically, feeling a vivid spark of good mood for the first time today. His friends always helped him…

“Now, Caspian, what is this beard, it is neither grown nor shaven, make up your mind!” Mrs. Badger fussed motherly, and Caspian bit back a chuckle, knowing that had he laughed, he would only cause more rant.

“Dear, do let him look as he wishes…”

The matter was that since about a month, Caspian was wearing a sort of beard. It was just short moustache connected to a short beard that covered his entire chin, and nothing more, all this trimmed neatly, kept at length just after stubble. The reason for it was that Caspian would never wear a beard like his uncle or horrid father or any of the Telmarine custom beards, but at the same time he felt a need to change something about himself, maybe to help him get away from at least some of his pain about the lost past with his friends, in a way. He had briefly considered cutting his hair, but he never could do that because of his mother…

His mother, the only person in his life to have given him love, tenderness and gentle touch before Susan came to his life. She died when he was just about four and a half years old, and he missed her terribly, sometimes, at long nights. She was the one who insisted on keeping Caspian’s hair at this particular length, and protested each time his father wanted to cut it. After her death, it was the only one promise Caspian IX kept. And so, Caspian wouldn’t cut his hair… and aside from that, he was rather attached to it, in a way.

As per the small beard, he was sure he would shave it off sooner or later. He knew himself.

He enjoyed his time at the Badgers’ house thoroughly. He felt immersed in the homely atmosphere, and he more than enjoyed Berrytail’s mothering, being reminded to dress warm, and forced to eat two more pieces of pie past his personal pie limit. It was something he never experienced as a child, and now he was more than happy with his friends, in their cozy house, in a tiny, warm room, with fire cracking in the fireplace, with a smell of books, wood, warm blankets and good food.

After some time, he said his goodbyes, promising a quick return, and left, eaten with guilt about keeping Destrier out in the cold for so long, but was slightly cheered up to see that his faithful companion was entertaining himself by prancing around a nearby tree. They rode back to the castle through falling darkness, as it grew dark very early now, at the brink of winter. That day, he laid down to sleep in his warm bedchamber heated with fire from two fireplaces, gazing sleepily at the lazily coloring embers before his eyelids drooped. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day.

Oh, gods, yes, I gave Caspian a beard, oh gods. Don't worry, it will be gone in some time.

I hope the new story is to your liking :)

Please review to tell me what you think... this is only the beginning, but there already was the beginning of the plot that will fully enter in chapter 3. The structure of the story will be very much action, intrigue, plotting, and numerous threads wrapping together, with, of course, a great dose of our favorite Suspian romance! How will it go, you'll see!

Chapters will be shorter than in my other story, and it will most likely be longer updated, but I intend to keep this story going, if you like it enough!