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rosa_cotton…a Chronicles of Narnia fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
schala4
~~~
Fairy Tales
Lucy slowly walked along the beach, the wet sand tickling her toes. Edmund, Eustace, and the rest of the crew had returned to the Dawn Treader for the night. Only Caspian lingered back at the great Table between the pillars. He had grown quiet when Ramandu and his daughter had bid the company good night and left them. His attention had not been on the conversation around the table thereafter; many times his gaze had turned to the door in the hillside.
Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace had been among the last to leave the young king. While his mind had clearly been elsewhere, Caspian had been respectful in bidding them good night. Something inside the girl had sunk when he simply shook her hand like he had the boys’ and turned away from them towards the hillside, his eyes bright.
Lucy sighed. The wind picked up, blowing her short hair in her face; unsuccessfully she tried to tuck the wayward strands behind her ears. She grew cold as she walked up and down the beach. She briskly rubbed her hands over her arms and quickened her pace. Her gaze thoughtful, she glanced towards the great Table where Caspian remained. It was nothing more than a silhouette in the dim starry light. She sighed again.
“…They have a story of a prince or king coming to a castle where all the people lay in an enchanted sleep. In that story he could not dissolve the enchantment until he had kissed the Princess.”
At the time, Lucy had not thought much of Caspian mentioning the story to Ramandu’s daughter, except being slightly surprised that he remembered it.
She had told Caspian the story after the Dawn Treader had left the Island of Voices. It had been a clear night and Lucy had been stargazing when Caspian joined her. After a while he had asked her what sort of stories was told in her world and she had related to him the tale of the sleeping princess, one her mother had read to her often.
When she finished the story, Lucy had nervously looked up at Caspian when the silence became uncomfortable on her part. She found him studying her, in his eyes the ever-present respect and deep admiration he held for her and Edmund. Yet there had been something else she could not identify: a dawning light, an awareness of sorts that added intensity to his eyes and softened his kind smile.
He had commented she was a wonderful storyteller and would like to hear more stories sometime. Stuttering, she had said they were only make-believe, children’s tales, unlike the ones here that had really happened. Caspian had laughed gently and assured her he had liked the story. Flustered, she had said she would retire for the night. He had smiled again and kissed her hand, wishing her good night, calling her “sweet Lucy.”
Recalling that moment, Lucy’s cheeks flamed with color as they had when she had all but fled from Caspian down below deck to her quarters, a strange fluttering in her chest. In bed she had touched with wonder the spot he had kissed on her hand. It had been a very long time since her hand had been kissed – when she had been older and fairer, a queen.
After that Lucy had a number of times caught Caspian watching her with that new, unfamiliar, dawning look. And nearly every night they had stared at the stars while she told another fairy tale from her world. Sometimes they had discussed the story, with Caspian wondering why a certain event had happened or why a character had made a particular decision. Lucy could not always provide a satisfying answer. Though still shy around the handsome king, she enjoyed telling him stories, and a warmth filled her when he looked at her and smiled.
“But here it is different. Here he cannot kiss the Princess till he has dissolved the enchantment.”
Ramandu’s daughter had spoken softly in reply to Caspian’s comment. There had been a small smile on her face, and she had held his gaze for a long moment. There had been an almost urgent eagerness in his voice when he asked what he needed to do to break it. Only now, thinking back on their exchange which at the time had seemed so strange, Lucy begun to understand the veiled double meaning behind their words. It also explained Caspian’s behavior earlier tonight: why he became so silent when Ramandu and his daughter departed, seemed deep in thought afterwards, and lingered behind gazing towards the hillside. Caspian was the prince in the story on a quest. And Ramandu’s daughter was the princess who would not be won until the Three Sleepers’ enchantment was dissolved. Indeed, Lucy had never seen such beauty before. Compared to her, Lucy’s long-ago beauty had been like a child’s, and even Susan’s seemed dimmed in comparison.
A weight settled in the girl’s stomach, and she felt a rush of tears, though she could not explain why. With the back of her hand she brushed away the tears sliding down her face. She really need not cry. She had no reason. She would eventually leave Narnia again with her brother and cousin…
Caspian would not be interested in her telling any more fairy tales; he had found his own. Just as she had told him that night, fairy tales were not reality in her world, but could be here in Narnia. Just like love at first sight.
Lucy closed her eyes tightly for a long moment, willing away the lump forming in her throat. She need not cry. The girl shuddered, now feeling the cold. Hugging herself, she turned her steps toward the Dawn Treader.
She smiled, a little sadly, glancing towards the pillars a last time. She would gaze at the stars for a bit before going to bed, she decided.
“Good night, Caspian,” she whispered. Not all fairy tales had happy endings.
THE END
schala4~~~
Fairy Tales
Lucy slowly walked along the beach, the wet sand tickling her toes. Edmund, Eustace, and the rest of the crew had returned to the Dawn Treader for the night. Only Caspian lingered back at the great Table between the pillars. He had grown quiet when Ramandu and his daughter had bid the company good night and left them. His attention had not been on the conversation around the table thereafter; many times his gaze had turned to the door in the hillside.
Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace had been among the last to leave the young king. While his mind had clearly been elsewhere, Caspian had been respectful in bidding them good night. Something inside the girl had sunk when he simply shook her hand like he had the boys’ and turned away from them towards the hillside, his eyes bright.
Lucy sighed. The wind picked up, blowing her short hair in her face; unsuccessfully she tried to tuck the wayward strands behind her ears. She grew cold as she walked up and down the beach. She briskly rubbed her hands over her arms and quickened her pace. Her gaze thoughtful, she glanced towards the great Table where Caspian remained. It was nothing more than a silhouette in the dim starry light. She sighed again.
“…They have a story of a prince or king coming to a castle where all the people lay in an enchanted sleep. In that story he could not dissolve the enchantment until he had kissed the Princess.”
At the time, Lucy had not thought much of Caspian mentioning the story to Ramandu’s daughter, except being slightly surprised that he remembered it.
She had told Caspian the story after the Dawn Treader had left the Island of Voices. It had been a clear night and Lucy had been stargazing when Caspian joined her. After a while he had asked her what sort of stories was told in her world and she had related to him the tale of the sleeping princess, one her mother had read to her often.
When she finished the story, Lucy had nervously looked up at Caspian when the silence became uncomfortable on her part. She found him studying her, in his eyes the ever-present respect and deep admiration he held for her and Edmund. Yet there had been something else she could not identify: a dawning light, an awareness of sorts that added intensity to his eyes and softened his kind smile.
He had commented she was a wonderful storyteller and would like to hear more stories sometime. Stuttering, she had said they were only make-believe, children’s tales, unlike the ones here that had really happened. Caspian had laughed gently and assured her he had liked the story. Flustered, she had said she would retire for the night. He had smiled again and kissed her hand, wishing her good night, calling her “sweet Lucy.”
Recalling that moment, Lucy’s cheeks flamed with color as they had when she had all but fled from Caspian down below deck to her quarters, a strange fluttering in her chest. In bed she had touched with wonder the spot he had kissed on her hand. It had been a very long time since her hand had been kissed – when she had been older and fairer, a queen.
After that Lucy had a number of times caught Caspian watching her with that new, unfamiliar, dawning look. And nearly every night they had stared at the stars while she told another fairy tale from her world. Sometimes they had discussed the story, with Caspian wondering why a certain event had happened or why a character had made a particular decision. Lucy could not always provide a satisfying answer. Though still shy around the handsome king, she enjoyed telling him stories, and a warmth filled her when he looked at her and smiled.
“But here it is different. Here he cannot kiss the Princess till he has dissolved the enchantment.”
Ramandu’s daughter had spoken softly in reply to Caspian’s comment. There had been a small smile on her face, and she had held his gaze for a long moment. There had been an almost urgent eagerness in his voice when he asked what he needed to do to break it. Only now, thinking back on their exchange which at the time had seemed so strange, Lucy begun to understand the veiled double meaning behind their words. It also explained Caspian’s behavior earlier tonight: why he became so silent when Ramandu and his daughter departed, seemed deep in thought afterwards, and lingered behind gazing towards the hillside. Caspian was the prince in the story on a quest. And Ramandu’s daughter was the princess who would not be won until the Three Sleepers’ enchantment was dissolved. Indeed, Lucy had never seen such beauty before. Compared to her, Lucy’s long-ago beauty had been like a child’s, and even Susan’s seemed dimmed in comparison.
A weight settled in the girl’s stomach, and she felt a rush of tears, though she could not explain why. With the back of her hand she brushed away the tears sliding down her face. She really need not cry. She had no reason. She would eventually leave Narnia again with her brother and cousin…
Caspian would not be interested in her telling any more fairy tales; he had found his own. Just as she had told him that night, fairy tales were not reality in her world, but could be here in Narnia. Just like love at first sight.
Lucy closed her eyes tightly for a long moment, willing away the lump forming in her throat. She need not cry. The girl shuddered, now feeling the cold. Hugging herself, she turned her steps toward the Dawn Treader.
She smiled, a little sadly, glancing towards the pillars a last time. She would gaze at the stars for a bit before going to bed, she decided.
“Good night, Caspian,” she whispered. Not all fairy tales had happy endings.
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-14 03:59 am (UTC)*calms down enough to actually read the fic*
Oh. The whole Caspian/star's daughter fairytale, oh, that's it *exactly*.
Just beautiful, hun. Thank you so much.
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Date: 2006-12-14 08:13 pm (UTC)What is your icon from? It is very pretty.
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Date: 2006-12-14 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-14 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-12-31 05:58 am (UTC)no subject
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