Follow up to 'Masked' even though I wrote this one first. This one was inspired by lots of discussion on the forum about Caspian singing. Influenced by Ben Barnes's past life as a boybander.

Disclaimer: All rights go to CS Lewis and Walden Media.

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.king caspian the crooner.

By no means was Caspian a horrid singer, Susan reassured. He, in fact, had a lovely voice. That is, a voice well enough to be noted without having proper teachings. It did not matter; however, because Caspian was not a court musician or a troubadour. He was a King and it was well known that Kings were not formal entertainers.

She remembers when she first discovered him singing. Not loudly, of course, as it would have defeated the purpose of the time. But Susan was leaning against the doorway of their bedchamber, fresh out from bathing and Caspian loosely held the bundle in his strong arms. Strange, thought Susan, Caspian had always been a rough and clumsy but held the small prince so gently.

So, she watched him, curious about the small crooning she intermittently heard as he stepped lightly back and forth, rocking the giggling baby. It was a few minutes later -- maybe hours, she never kept track of time anymore (it was a confusing thing to think about anyways, so there was no need to cause such self-inflicted torture) -- that Caspian set the bundle in the sleek, high cradle at the end of the majestic bed.

He noticed her then, and flushed, asking how her bath was. She gave him a quirky smile, and Caspian knew she had heard his horrible croaking.

"I don't think I've heard of that one before," Susan said, making her way to his side by the cradle. She leaned down and adjusted the blanket around the infant, giving him a small peck on the head.

Caspian wrapped an arm around his queen and watched their son sleep soundly. "My nurse used to sing it to me. It's one of the things I remember most about her before she left…" He paused. "She sang it better."

Susan gave him a wry smile and beckoned him to bed. When Caspian blew out the last candle, the room fell into a light darkness with moonlight seeping in through the open curtains of the window. She wriggled a bit, accepting the comfortable warmth of his arms around her and the softness of his cheek against the side of her head.

Stillness passed for several seconds when Susan finally spoke.

"You're not so bad."

She felt him smile against her.

And since then, they had made a silent pact. Susan took to looking after Rilian (Caspian had insisted that he would break the Caspian-naming curse, should it be the life of him) during most days, and Caspian would have the honors of putting the boy to sleep.

One night (along with a few others), Rilian proved quite the handful for his mother.

"This morning he was dreadfully unhappy," said Susan as she watched the pair, lying against the high pillows of the bed. "I couldn't even get a word in with the cooks without having him screaming about. Nose running, face completely red. I didn't know what to do but to take him to the healers."

Caspian paused in his humming, "Healers? Was it really that serious?"

"The poor dear had an ear infection," Susan supplied. "Lucy used to have them weekly when she was smaller. The healers gave me a wonderful balm, though, and he's been a bit more energetic the rest of the day after he woke from his afternoon nap."

The King nodded and resumed his low singing. He looked down at Rilian, whose bright blue eyes stared up at him in a way clearly stated that he missed his father through the entire ordeal.

"You are lucky, little one." Caspian said, with a touch of humor in his voice, "Ear aches can be irritating, but they eventually go away with proper cures. Politicians, on the other hand… well, let's hope you won't be so concerned with them when you're older. Much, much older."

Caspian saw that the infant started to doze off after he realized that he couldn't comprehend what his father was babbling about. Rilian had a rough day with the healers, and he simply did not have the energy to decode messages from his own father. So, the little prince silently suggested that his father just simply stopped babbling and started singing--and Caspian decided that that was best as well. Setting down the gradually growing prince after another chorus of the lullaby, Caspian gently brushed the emerging patch of hair to the side and watched as Rilian gave one last yawn before settling back in.

"He's asleep," Caspian said reportedly to Susan, pulling the blanket around Rilian. "Did you get any business done with the cooks? What did they say about lamb chops for the next ball? … Susan?"

The Telmarine King looked bemused as he saw his queen sprawled against the bed pillows, barely even under covers, fast asleep.

A rough day indeed, thought Caspian.

Whenever Caspian could not be there, be it that he was out upon the land or settling politics in neighboring countries, Rilian had terrible nights sleeping. Susan would spend hours trying to calm the distressed infant, only succeeding when she relented in letting him sleep with her. This meant that she had little to no sleep because she would be anxious that he would take a tumble off the high furniture carelessly.

Susan thanked Aslan that Edmund did most of the diplomatic work.

This routine held for several months, and the King and Queen found it working so well that it soon extended into years. But, as many other babies do, young Prince Rilian grew. Eventually, he started crawling, which had to lead to walking. Susan had to always ask for assistance in tracking the mischievous toddler down before he found himself hanging outside windows, barely being saved by a Griffin passing by… again.

The frequent adventures that Rilian took left him exhausted at the end of the day, which Susan was thankful for. Now, Caspian only had to sing through two lullabies before the prince was deep in sleep. Crawling into bed, he bid a good night and a kiss to Susan, who only mumbled a reply.

Then, Prince Rilian turned three. And boy, Peter had noted, was he a big three-year-old.

Caspian and Susan observed the crib as their son slept.

"… I think he might need a bed of his own." Caspian suggested, hesitantly. Susan nodded… hesitantly.

"Maybe."

"Yeah, maybe."

Peter didn't think so.

"What? Why is it that I have to give up my chambers?" He exclaimed. "He's three! What use could he possibly have for such a big place?"

"Well, it's the closest from ours," said Susan. Caspian stood beside her mute, as he did not know how to hold this type of conversation with the High King. "We just don't want him so far away. He probably won't be actually moving into a bed until he's four but we just wanted to plan ahead."

"But he's still three. Remember, Ed and I didn't stop sharing a room until--well, Narnia. So he can very well bunk with Ed."

"Oh, Peter. You're being unreasonable."

"What if I gave him my study?"

"Peter."

"Fine," Peter threw up his arms and marched out of the throne room. "I like the Northern Wing better anyways."

Prince Rilian took in his new living environment with utter joy and fascination.

His uncle was not as jovial.

Susan sat in front of her vanity, brushing through her frayed hair as she listened to Caspian's soft humming coming from the lavatory. Peter would be short with the both of them for some time, but he'll soon forget once he noticed how quieter things were in the Northern Wing. She blew out half of the candles around the room, and slipped beneath the covers. Caspian came in minutes later, still humming, and blew out the rest.

She thought about long nights and long days that Prince Rilian the Rowdy had caused her as she settled against her husband, thoroughly enjoying the presence of only two people in the room. Her thoughts wandered to all the times of Caspian singing little songs to Rilian, and of all the times she couldn't. But it wasn't until Rilian had spent three good nights on his own that she realized Caspian hadn't been always been singing for Rilian's sake.

He was still singing for her.

Susan turned slightly to watch him, noting that he had stopped humming and slipped into a steady breathing. She smiled softly and moved closer into his embrace without waking him.

No, he didn't exactly have the best voice in the world, but she would've hated being married to a troubadour.

Fin.