Chapter Three:

//Sometimes it's hard when you're so deep inside
to see all you can lose in a blink of an eye//

England...

Susan’s suspicion had twisted into actuality, in the two months that she had been returned from Narnia she had been missing something – other than a certain King Caspian. The first month she that she was back she had basically assumed that she had missed because she had made herself so unwell.

Now of course she knew better, not anything for the second month in a row, nauseous every morning – not to remark on the remainder of the day and night, the tremendously embarrassing mood swings and the fact that her breasts were swollen and sensitive.

How was she expected to tell everybody that she was carrying the successor to the throne of Narnia? This information and herself were going to be nothing but nuisance and an encumbrance to her parents. Disappointment and unhappiness is what Peter would show her every time he looked in her direction, but she was undecided as to how Lucy or Edmund would act in response.

However the unqualified reality was that she did not care about their reactions, only how she felt about it all. She was delighted and cheerless, wounded and jubilant - all at once - over her unanticipated, but not unwanted pregnancy. Now she would forever have a part of her beloved with her at all times. As you would expect she was also despondent over the fact that neither her child nor Caspian would ever get the chance to know one another.

Not desiring to let anybody in on her little surprise – for the moment – she pretended to be standard Susan, just like she had every day for the past month, because of Lucy’s little chat. She got up, got ready and the set about making breakfast and preparing school lunches for everyone – making certain that her own was as nourishing as achievable with the current rationing imposed.

That was what she was undertaking when her siblings in due course, sleepily stumbled into the kitchen. They were all too some extent dressed for school, Peter’s tie was unfastened, Edmund’s shirt was untucked and Lucy was missing her shoes. She placed breakfast in front of each of them and went back to her responsibility of preparing lunch, nibbling on her own breakfast of toast as she did so.

“That is *so* disgusting!” Lucy yelled all of a sudden.

Susan turned around at the noise and wished that she had refused to go along with the impulse as her stomach rolled at the sight of Peter submerging a mass of buttered toast into his runny egg yolk and swallowing it in one gulp, not even bothering to pretend to chew. She ran from the room, her hand clamped over her mouth as she headed for the bathroom, leaving behind her perplexed siblings.

A small number of minutes later, her head was still hung over the toilet bowl and she felt as if she was going to die. A knock sounded softly on the door, “Su?” When she didn’t bother to answer, Peter entered the small room, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, blinking back her tears.

Regrettably Peter had never been one to let anything go, he perched himself on the edge of the sink and stared at her. “You know... if I could figure out a way to get back to Narnia, I would kill him for this.”

“For what?” she answered unenthusiastically.

“Are you going to deny that you’re pregnant?”

The tears broke free and started to fall, “No.”

“Don’t cry, Su.” He moved away from the sink and sat on the floor next to her, pulling her in close for a cuddle, “We’ll figure everything out.”

As Peter did that, Lucy and Edmund appeared in the doorway, looking very bewildered at the events of breakfast. “What’s wrong with her?” Edmund asked with unease.

Peter whispered softly in her ear, asking her permission to tell them what was going on and when Susan nodded, he finally spoke to his other siblings. “Su is pregnant!”

“Caspian?” Ed asked.

Lucy elbowed him hard in the stomach, “Of course. Who else is Su in love with?”

“Peter?”

“Ed!” Peter and Lucy chorused in repugnance.

Edmund for once had the courteousness to look discomfited, “Well, that was the rumour around school last year.”

Susan was in spite of everything weeping still and Peter was struggling to console her, but failing miserably. Sighing at the sight, Lucy climbed over the pair to join in and left Edmund standing in the doorway noticeably puzzled and uncomfortable with the circumstances.

“What are we going to do?” Lucy asked turning to Peter for guidance.

“Firstly... you and Ed are going to school, while I stay home with Su. Then we’ll all talk about this when you get home,” Peter responded determinedly.

After a great deal of grumbling the younger two Pevensies made their way to school, while Peter put Susan to bed and started to clean up the breakfast disarray which had been left. When he returned to check on her an hour later, he found her sound asleep. With nothing else to do he grabbed his school work and started to study, waiting for either Susan to rouse or for the others to return home.

//Your lips
your face
something that time just can't erase//

Narnia...

Caspian did not desire to get out of bed. He did not care that he had duties to execute or renovations to oversee; he just sought to slumber the day away so that it would no longer exist. It was the day he had been anxious about for the past month – the anniversary – one year to the day that Susan had been snatched away from him.

As the day had approached, everyone had pulled away from him for fear that they be exposed to his vehemence, which had simply developed with no way for him to discharge it. This resulted in him spending numerous hours in his own disparaging company, making the state of affairs even worse.

Thoughts and reminiscences of Susan were drowning him; she was his passion and therefore by extension was also his greatest challenge to triumph over. It was now to the point that he could no longer even bear to say her name out loud, in case it caused him physical anguish.

All of the bits and pieces that she had left behind had long since been moved to his chambers, but to his dismay he was determining that a number of the items were losing their distinctive perfume of Susan. To him it seemed that everything was gradually diminishing except for his memories, his love and his broken heart.

Unenthusiastically he got up and tore through as many of his official duties as were indispensable to liberate the remainder of his day. When he was ready, he headed without delay to the stables and then he – regrettably accompanied by his personal guards – and Destrier rode off a quantity of his dissatisfaction.

A portion of the way through his journey he recognised where he had involuntarily ended up, in close proximity to where he had first blown Susan’s horn and summoned her and her siblings to Narnia. The anguish at the thought was excruciating, the woodland became a reminder of his bereavement and it more or less crippled him.

By the time he and his unsolicited escorts had returned to the castle, his frame of mind had degraded even more. He made his way to his suite and picked up the nearest object – a wooden carving of him on Destrier – and threw it across the room as remorselessly as he could. It did nothing to improve his mood when it did not shatter or even fragment. Yet by some means he refused to give in to the enticement to throw it again, if only to hear the satisfying crunch of breakage.

A knock at his door was both undesirable and unanticipated, he threw it open geared up to rant and rave at the interloper and saw Glenstorm standing there. Choking back his antagonism – not wanting or needing to cause offence his most trustworthy friend and advisor – and endeavoured to smile, which came out as a grimace.

“Your Majesty.”

“Glenstorm.”

The Centaur looked unquestionably uncomfortable and Caspian was not certain if it was because of his mood swings, the fact he was stood in the doorway or due to whatever information or counsel he was there to communicate.

Caspian stepped out of the doorway, “Would you like to come in?”

Glenstorm entered the room and turned to face his King. “I am here because I must tell you what the stars have told me...”

“What is it?”

“You must seek Aslan.”

Caspian glowered, “I do not wish to seek out that malevolent lion.”

Glenstorm ignored Caspian’s outrage, “As soon as Cair Paravel is reconstructed, you must travel by water to find Aslan. You must ask for the return of Queen Susan...”

“Why?” he interrupted not daring to say her name out loud, lest he break down.

“The stars do not tell me why you must; only that it is exceedingly important that you do.”

“Thank you,” Caspian acknowledged. As Glenstorm went to leave, Caspian spoke again, “Did your stars declare if I am successful?”

“No, they did not, your majesty. However I have great confidence in your capability to influence Aslan to your way of thinking.”

After Glenstorm had departed, Caspian’s knees gave out and he sank down to the cold stone floor. For the first time in a year he had hope. Hope for himself. Hope for Susan. Hope for the future. Openly he sobbed discharging his pent up emotions and once he was done, he set about making plans for his expedition.

End Part