I wrote this Caspian/Susan one-shot a long time ago. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia.
Title: Holding On
Short Summary: She clung to the memories, because even if she couldn't come back to him, she could at least believe that what they had shared was special.
It wasn't easy, being in love with someone from another world.
--
She walks with her siblings toward the portal that will take them back to England. She does not look back at him; if she does, she is certain that she'll run back into his arms.
She goes through the portal, and in an instant, she and her family are back at the train station. Her blue and white gown has changed into her school uniform. Her dark hair is back into a ponytail. Hardly any time has passed in England.
As her younger brother remarks that he left his torch in Narnia, she can't help but feel a little envious. Her younger siblings will still be able to go back to Narnia, while she and her older brother will not.
--
I'm afraid that's just it. We're not coming back.
--
It's the first day since she left Narnia (left him), and she attends her classes as though she's just another schoolgirl who never ruled as a Queen of a magical country. She's lost in thought, wondering how much Narnian time has passed (is he still alive?). She gets scolded by the teacher for daydreaming, but she is unaffected by it.
She has the rest of the day to go.
--
She hadn't planned on kissing him. And she wasn't sure if the kiss had been a good thing or not.
--
It's been three days, and she starts wondering if the kiss she and Caspian shared had been a mistake. Did it make her leaving harder on him? She herself had wanted to stay in his embrace forever and not have to leave, but what choice did she have? There was no use hoping she would ever return to Narnia; Aslan told her and Peter that it was time for them to live in their own world. And as she walks down the hall to the cafeteria, she overhears two girls chatting about some boy.
She hurries to the cafeteria so that she doesn't have to hear more of the conversation.
--
She wonders if he thinks about her. Because she thinks about him a lot.
--
A week, and it's not getting much better. She still feels pain over leaving Narnia (over leaving the one who she thinks, maybe even knows, she loves), like a wound that won't heal. Susan thinks about Caspian's last words to her, "I wish we had more time together," and she agrees with him.
She's started to write letters to him. It's a bit silly (she knows Caspian will never get to read them), but it somewhat softens the ache. It makes her feel (if only for a moment) that she is still connected to Caspian. Even if they are separated by time and space.
The letter is now finished. She neatly folds it in half and sets it in a box on her writing desk in her dormitory, where the other letters are.
--
He is Caspian the Tenth. She's just found out that there's a body of water called the Caspian Sea.
--
A month's gone by, and she walks through life in England. Students have whispered about her, but she's found that she doesn't really care.
Dear Caspian,
Everything's okay here. But England's nothing like Narnia. Remember when I said I was glad I came back? Well, it was the truth, and I wish-- she cancels it out as soon as she writes it. She isn't sure she wants to bare all her feelings on paper. (Especially since it's a letter unsent.)
She briefly wonders, as she's been prone to doing lately, how much time has passed in Narnia since she and her siblings left. Has it been a week? A year? Ten years? Is Caspian even still alive?
She shoves these thoughts out of her mind as she proceeds to write the letter. She contemplates on how to end it. "Yours Sincerely, Susan" sounds stiff and formal, like a letter between royals, but she hesitates over "Love, Susan." Does it reveal too much of her feelings?
In a rush, she scribbles the latter down and stuffs the letter into the box before she can change her mind.
--
She likes to think that Caspian hasn't forgotten her. Like she hasn't forgotten about him.
--
Half a year drags itself out as she maintains the routine of her daily schedule.
She's staying calm and acts as though nothing is the matter with her, even though she has her relapses. The possibility of Caspian being dead by now is looking more and more likely.
When she is able to speak to Lucy, she asks her about this. Lucy doesn't say anything; she looks unsure on how to answer. She merely shrugs, in a bit of a helpless way, she thinks.
That night, she quickly pens a thought or two onto paper. When she's done, she puts it into the box and goes to get ready for bed.
--
They were worlds apart. But absence always made the heart grow fonder...
--
It's been a long year. School's been out for summer vacation for some time. She's now with her parents in America.
John Pevensie is in America for a job lecturing, and Helen Pevensie had decided to go with him because she hadn't had a real holiday in years. They only had enough money for Susan to be able to go; Edmund and Lucy are currently staying with Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta.
While America is a lovely country, she still manages to dream about a country with Talking Beasts, and about a certain Telmarine with dark hair and even darker eyes.
--
...or forgetful.
--
She counts off one year and twenty-seven days in her head.
Lucy has told her that she, Edmund, and their cousin Eustace went to Narnia while she was away in America. She immediately asks how much time has passed since the last visit to Narnia (is Caspian still alive?). Lucy tells her it's only been three years, but on the subject of him, her younger sister is hesitant. He is alive and well, but there's something else.
He had met someone, a woman.
--
If only they had more time. Maybe even one more day. If only.
--
She runs to her bedroom. She hears her sister call her name, but she doesn't look back. She closes her door and lies down on her bed. She feels she can't breathe. Tears burn beneath her eyes.
She shouldn't be upset; she knows he needs a wife to provide an heir to the throne. But it hurts to think that he's forgotten her. Had what they shared not mean as much to him as it meant to her?
His voice echoes in her mind, "I wish we had more time together."
More time indeed! One month (four weeks, five days, six hours, and twenty-five minutes) wasn't nearly enough.
--
She would never know what could have been between them. She lets the tears flood her eyes.