She didn't know how she got here or why. One minute Susan Pevensie was sitting in a history class in Finchley, the next she was on a deserted white sand beach with crystal clear turquoise waters in a land she didn't know. Her initial reaction was to take off her shoes and socks and wade in the surf, enjoying the exotic feeling of sand between her toes.

Soon she grew tired of that and decided she should at least attempt to find civilization. If there was any. Perhaps they could tell her where she was. Stopping to rest for a bit under a palm tree, she found herself nodding off, due to the heat. She could hear voices and other commotion but surely it was her imagination as there was no one around for miles seemingly.

--

A large stocky man poked at the lonely sleeping girl with a stick of driftwood. What strange clothing she wore. They would certainly have to remedy that as none of it suited her. She shifted but didn't wake.

"Captain, take a look at this puta bonita. What do you say we do with her?"

Miraz sighed in boredom as he went to see what the latest problem was with his men. Why couldn't they do anything for themselves once in awhile? Upon seeing what they had found, there was a glint in his eye. Yes, a girl would be quite useful to him and his men, in many ways, as it had been awhile since any of them had been in the company of one. They would have to clean her up first.

"Tie her up and take her back to the ship. Have her guarded at all times."

Turning his back to them, he narrowed his eyes in vexation. Another attempt at killing his damnable nephew had failed. How many attempts would it take? There could be no mistakes next time. Though, he grinned evilly, relishing in the fact that the hunt was half the fun.

--

Susan stirred, her limbs beginning to cramp from the awkward position she was in. How long had she been asleep? Why was she sitting like this? Was she even sitting? Her wrists and ankles were tied to something solid behind her, all of her weight resting on her knees. Her eyes shot open at the realization of the dirty rag tied across her mouth. Where was she and how did she get here? Why was she even in this predicament? Looking around, she noticed that she was on the deck of a ship, tied to the mast.

"At last you're awake." Susan's head whipped to the side to view her captor. He sounded Spanish but she wasn't in Spain. She couldn't be. Nor did he dress like a Spaniard. At least any that she had seen pictures of. Her eyes flickered down to the grotestque creature that stood beside him. He couldn't be more than three feet tall at most. He looked like a man but yet almost like a rat. His beady black eyes and blackened teeth that sneered at her caused Susan to visibly shudder.

"The captain commands that you be made presentable. Get up." He prodded her with the sharp tip of his sword. Susan clenched her teeth and glared at him. Clearly he could see that she was unable to do so. Nor did she want to. Even Peter and Edmund's constant bickering was easier to deal with than this. This she couldn't escape from. She'd rather die, honestly.

When she made no attempt to move, the ghastly creature that accompanied him spoke in a hideous voice. "Do you prefer death? Then do as you are told."

Seeing as she had little choice, Susan struggled to stand but her bonds restricted her from doing so. The burly man grabbed her hair and yanked her to her feet, causing her to scream in pain.

Susan was aware of her hands and ankles being freed from the mast, but she knew running would be futile. She imagined there would be bruises on her arm before long from his tight grip as he dragged her across the deck and down the steps to the captain's quarters. Her bare legs stung from where the evil creature whipped her with something sharp along the way.

Once in the room, the door was left open so anyone could pass and see inside. Gethin, the Black dwarf leered at her from his post, making certain she didn't try to leave. Sopespian ripped off Susan's knit cardigan and tossed it on the floor. "Take the rest off." he ordered. She continued to glare at him.

With that, she received a backhand across her face. "I will not repeat myself." Susan did not obey him and he tore her blouse and skirt from her body, buttons flying across the room. "You won't be needing these". With his belt knife, he sliced at her bra and panties and watched them fall to the floor. Susan's face flushed in discomfort and anger, but there was little she could do to stop him. "No marks on you? How strange. That will be remedied in no time." Opening the trunk in the corner of the room, he rummaged through it and pulled out various garments.

He forced her to cooperate as he dressed her in a simple lowcut tunic that barely covered her bum and a leather corset over that. Her eyes flashed at him. She wanted to claw at him in rage. He had no business touching her as if she were a whore. Forcefully, he grabbed her tender arm as he shoved her around to face the door and dragged her back to her prison, where she was tied up yet again.

The pain that shot through her body from the unnatural uncomfortable position she was bound to threatened to keep her awake as the hours passed and night began to fall. She blinked back tears in realization that this was no dream. But she was thankful that she was being ignored...for a little while anyway.