randomosity | For Caspian: The King is Dead?

Victory had been a shaky thing. Victory had been fought and clawed for with heavy sacrifices on both side. Victory had taken the lives of many brave sons and daughters of Narnia. Victory had taken multiple warships from the invaders; just one from the Narnians.

When he finally regained consciousness on the shore of Galma, his first fleeting thought was for the Dawn Treader. She, thankfully, wasn't a warship--was still safely back in the harbour. His second thought was for the fleet. Pushing himself up onto his elbows to scan the horizon confirmed what he had desperately wished--the line of the sea was clear of enemy ships, patrolled only by silhouettes he knew well.

His third thought was for the promise he had made to Anne.

It took hours to find enough strength to stand. It took nearly another to find a fisherman along the shore who would bring him across the sound to the Cair. It took another still to travel to Narnia's seat of power.

Perhaps Anne would hear the shouting down in the courtyard when he dragged himself finally into his home again, exhausted beyond belief, slick with blood and soaked with salt water. Perhaps Anne would hear the clamour through the halls of the Cair as half the castle came running to see to the returned monarch.

If not, Anne would hopefully hear the pounding of a skittish maid on the door telling her to come to the royal chambers immediately.

Anne had completely shut down. The shouting in the courtyard was completely mute to her. The clamor in the halls though, that did give her pause. She heard it, but paid it little mind in the long run. Anne shook her head, again burying her face into her skirts. The maid pounding on the door was a bit more difficult to ignore.

At first Anne just shrieked for the woman to go away. She didn't want to see anyone. Anne assumed that her presence was being requested for some ceremony that she couldn't be a part of. Even if she had the strength to stand up, she wouldn't be there. She couldn't.

But the maid's incessant screaming and pounding at the door was just too much for Anne to deal with. Finally, fueled by her anger, Anne stood up, whipped the door open and stomped to the royal chambers with the maid scurrying behind her. She wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to put on some semblance of a strong face. Her cheeks were still red and her eyes were still glassy and teary.

She burst into the room and started to turn to give some snide comment to the maid.

But then she paused. Dark eyes opened wide. Oh God. She'd lost her mind, that was the only explanation.

"...it cannot be..."

The healers at the king's bedside were, thankfully, already beginning to wind down their examination. The monarch had been bandaged, slightly cleaned; there was still an air of the sea about him, and still the haggard look in him of a man half-drowned, but the doctors were beginning to be done fussing about him.

It made it easier for him to brush weakly at the adviser hovering by his head. It made it easier for one hand to be lifted, briefly, toward the woman standing at the door.

His lips attempted to form words, but sound refused to come. Hopefully, she could see the yearning in his eyes as clearly as if he'd managed to call out her name.

Anne likely would not be able to hear him even if he had managed to speak her name aloud. She was in such shock, none of her senses were working save for her sight. All she could do was stare for a minute that seemed to last for eons. Then her mind came back to her.

Slowly, her body obeyed her commands. Her feet moved her towards him; after a few steps she was running. Anne bumped into the adviser that had just been beside Caspian, accidentally of course but she made no effort to apologize. She was too overwhelmed at seeing him, alive, moving.

Anne at least had the God-given sense not to throw herself upon him on the bed. Bandaged and worn as he was, she simply seized his hand in both of hers, kissing his knuckles repeatedly before bringing one hand down to stroke his hair. Badly she wanted to kiss his lips, but she wasn't certain that she could do so without hurting him, as she did not know the extent of his wounds.

"My God...it's a miracle, they...they told me you were dead! That the ship sank and everyone had drowned!" Anne gasped, barely remembering that she had to breathe.

It felt so much more like coming home, having her properly at his side again. It felt easier to relax into the healing poultices do their work, to lean back properly into the bed and rest as the physicians had been asking him to.

His grip on her hand was weak, but his fingers did their best to curl around hers when she kissed them. His attention, although fading slightly, was focused as much as he could on her face.

"I don't... know if any... anyone else did." It weighed on him, even in his hazy state. The victory helped to make sense of it, but not to take the loss away. "It... it was bad, Anne."

She kept her other hand wrapped around his, as though she could protect him, keep him safe with this gesture alone. Anne kept her eyes focused on him, settling onto the bed beside him as he spoke. The back of her hand that had been stroking his hair rested against his forehead.

"Shh...don't think on that now," Anne spoke softly. "You need to rest, you need to recover."

She had seen this sort of thing before. Not necessarily this exact situation, but similar. After a battle in which a king participated (albeit those were rare) if a king was injured or taken down in battle, even if the opponent was defeated, they usually rallied quickly to strike while their enemy was in a weakened state. Anne knew Caspian would need to recover quickly, and the word would need to be sent out that he was alive and well - and certainly still the rightful King of Narnia.

Drinian would lead half the fleet out after the retreating enemy. The other half would linger at the shore, waiting for the King to take their helm once he was on his feet again.

Narnia would begin to feel safe again. The borders would be firmly in their own control again. The throne would not fall into crisis because the young king was not dead.

It still felt very far away as Caspian lay in bed, breath shaky and occasionally hacked, eyes struggling to stay properly focused on Anne's face.

"I need... to go back."

Anne's brow knit and she leaned towards him a bit more, her hand still resting against his forehead. Each shaking, hacking breath made her more and more nervous, glancing sharp looks at the healers that surrounded him. In her logical mind, she knew there was nothing more they could do, it was just a matter of waiting and letting him heal.

Still, it didn't mean she had to be happy about it. Anne shook her head and put the slightest pressure on his forehead to keep him down, to keep him settled.

"What you need is to rest and recover your strength, Majesty," Anne countered. "You're in no condition to go anywhere right now. Much less a battlefield."

"We lost-- the Hyaline. They need-- they need their King."

She was right, of course. He needed to rest. He needed to come before Narnia as a strong, hale monarch, undefeated and unbowed despite their losses. It just didn't stop him from wishing it could be otherwise.

"Anne..."

His brow furrowed, eyes closing for a moment in exhausted frustration.

"...who will-- who will ease their hurt?"

"They do, no one's arguing that," Anne replied softly. "Your enemy is on the run, though our losses were heavy, we were victorious."

Anne leaned in then, her forehead resting against his. Her hand moved away, down to his shoulder.

"Your men are stronger than you give them credit for, Majesty. Have faith in them, as I have faith in you. They will protect Narnia in your absence," Anne laced her fingers with him. "They will fight through their pain until your strength has returned to you."

Pressing his forehead to hers helped keep him in place. Twining their fingers together helped settle his breathing a bit. Listening to her voice--finally, after all that time apart and all the pain that nearly stopped him from getting home--helped ease the last bit of his nerves.

"They're more than strong. But they-- should not be alone."

They should have a monarch to stand before them. They should have a leader to keep a straight spine and a fervent call to stand strong while their warriors kept the borders safe.

Anne took a moment to sit back a little, just to look at him more directly. She smiled softly to him, shaking her head a bit.

"Majesty, how could they be alone?" Anne tilted her head. "You're alive. You survived the sinking of a ship that no one else survived. They will know it soon enough if they do not know it already."

Anne paused, giving his hand the slightest squeeze, unsure if he had sustained any injuries there.

"You forget that I know you better than you think," Anne pointed out. "You may not be able to be with them physically now. But you are with them in spirit. All of your faith is in them regardless of whether you are there or here."

Anne tilted a brow at him. "Am I wrong?"

It had been clear from the first that Anne was a good queen. It had been obvious watching her with her husband, watching her with the courtiers; watching her even here, no longer a queen in rights but already finding where this new court needed holding up.

Where this new king, not hers in rights of marriage, needed holding up.

His eyes flickered between each of hers, brow furrowed and breath largely calm. "...no, Anne. You... you are not wrong."

Anne had always been perceptive and cunning. It's how she had become queen in the first place. She knew when a high-ranked adviser was trying to bend the will of a monarch for his benefit, and knew how to dispose of him without spilling even a drop of blood. In a small amount of time she had weeded out the poisons in the Tudor court. And for her efforts she was rewarded by a disloyal husband who plotted her execution.

Yet she had the good fortune to escape - with no small amount of thanks to Caspian's kindness.

Anne's fingers came down, fluttering across his forehead, stroking his hair with soft tenderness.

"Your men will fight for their king. They have a devotion I've not seen," Anne smiled. "They love you, Caspian. And so do I."

It was something he knew. It was something which had been proven a hundred times over--by his men, and now by the woman gently smoothing back his hair.

The clarity was coming back, finally, to his brow. The evenness of his breathing was now back in place properly. The shift of his hand brought his fingers, weakly, to smooth against her cheek.

"I love them. I love... this kingdom."

And he loved her. Hopefully, for all his voice was fading, she remembered that.

"I know you do," Anne smiled, leaning in slowly, softly pressing her lips to his temple before leaning back again. "It's what makes you a good king."

Her hand found itself at his chest, applying no pressure, simply regulating his heart rate to see how he was doing thus far. He seemed to be recovering quickly - that was a good sign.

"You should rest, it's not every day you come back from the dead, after all," Anne gave a little laugh. "Shall I leave you so you can have some peace?"

The press of her lips had his eyes drifting shut. She was right, after all; he needed to rest. He needed to sleep, to allow his body to recover, to get his mind back into fighting shape.

It didn't stop his fingers from searching for the fabric of her sleeve to keep her close to him.

"No. Stay. I'll... rest better with you... here, Anne."

Anne was momentarily surprised by his reply. She recovered though, and settled a bit, bringing her legs up to rest more comfortably on the bed beside him. Her head rested softly beside his. She could still feel the chill of the sea about him, and she draped her arm carefully across his chest.

"Then I'll stay. I'll always stay."

He didn't notice the moment of surprise. He did notice the sensation of her settling comfortably down. He did notice her weight on the bed, her soft arm safe across his chest.

This was better. This was something he had absolutely been fighting for once he pulled himself out of the water.

"Thank you."

It would be easier when he woke again. It would be easier to keep his eyes open, to keep his mind sharp; to actually speak with her rather than gasping for the thread of conversation.

Anne pulled the blankets up a bit more. To keep him warm, to keep him safe. As if she could protect him better this way. Anne pressed her forehead against the side of his head.

"You needn't thank me, my love," Anne smiled into his hair. The smell of salt and sand didn't bother her in the slightest.

It reminded her of England, not that she missed it. No, she didn't miss England, there was too much good here - Anne was overwhelmed with happiness here.

"I will always be here. I will always be beside you. For as long as you will have me."

He couldn't help but smile. He also couldn't help but drift easily into sleep with her warmth beside him and her voice soft in his ear.

He needed her. It was strange, having lived nearly his entire life without her and now finding how much he needed her.

Waking would be good. Waking would mean he could tell her exactly that. Waking first needed sleep, of course, but waking would bring him back to her side.

As it happened, for better or worse, waking also came some hours later with a stormy dream. The stillness of his sleep began to crash down into twisting and twitching and gasping for breath.

It wasn't long before Anne drifted off herself. The scent of the sea, his warmth beneath the chill of his skin, the rhythm of his breathing all combined to lull Anne slowly to sleep.

But when the twitching began, when Caspian began gasping and twisting, as if thrown into turmoil, Anne awoke immediately. Ignoring his wounds, fearing for his mind now, Anne gripped Caspian's shoulders and shook him.

"Caspian? Caspian!!" She called to him, worry gripping her tone. "Wake up, wake up! It's only a dream!"

The shaking sent a slight shock of pain through him. It did, at least, wake him up properly, body bolting slightly upright before another shock of pain arrested his motion. His breath came in rough gulps, heart pounding in his chest as he cast his eyes in terror around the room.

It didn't take long to focus in on her. It didn't take long for her voice to penetrate through the fog of his mind, for her face to swim properly into focus.

He was home. He was with Anne. He was safe.

He was alive.

It took a moment nonetheless to find his breath again.

Anne's hand cupped his cheek, stroked his hair, hushing him softly. All the while her eyes kept focused on him. Her forehead pressed against his, bringing him close.

"Shhh, shhhh, it's all right," she tried to soothe him further. "You're safe, love. I'm here."

She pulled back a bit, to look at him properly. Her hand slowly stroked down his cheek, down to his shoulder to rub where she had shook him. Anne wanted to rub away any pain she may have caused.

"Caspian? Are you all right?"

Her fingers were something to focus on. Her soft voice was something to focus on. Her eyes were, for a moment, the entire world as he came properly into wakefulness.

"...yes."

His voice was still hoarse. His focus was still just a little hazy at the edges.

"Anne..."

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