Aftermath
a Chronicles of Narnia story
by Elena Moorwood

It was with great reluctance Caspian brought himself into the practice hall, and with greater reluctance that he suited into his gloves and chest guard. Normally he would be eager for his sparring lesson with the fellow ruler of Narnia, but today he felt terrible. The itch that had started in the back of his throat the previous morning had blossomed into a stunning cold since. Too many long nights of battles in the rain, and though it was over now and spring was unfolding, but it had been just long enough for the adrenaline to wear off and the cold to settle in. The kings and queens of Narnia were returned to their rightful thrones, Caspian standing beside them as an equals, the rebuilding was proceeding nicely, and Caspian had said that he wanted to work on his swordsmanship. The High King Peter was legendary. Peter had mostly recovered from the battle with Miraz, and felt like he could take on anyone. Caspian wasn't about to give up an opportunity to practice with Peter over a silly little head cold. The current peace felt tenuous after so much war and who knew when they'd have to raise swords again. Still - he did not have to enjoy it.

"Are you ready?" Peter asked, smiling his wide smile. For all his long hours of working on the rebuilding and training he did not look in the least weary; Caspian found himself jealous of this fact, for despite him having done nothing strenuous in particular, he felt like he had run a marathon. He was breathless and felt dizzy and weak.

"About as ready as I am going to get." He picked up a sword, testing its weight, and then discarded it in favour of a lighter one, for he did not think he had the strength to carry the larger one, despite its extended range.

The two young men approached each other, and saluted, and then fell towards each other in a flurry of strikes. Caspian parried every one, but could not find an opening just yet. The courtyard they were practicing in was empty besides them, and the sound of metal on metal echoed.

There: it was an opening. Caspian struck out, but with greater speed Peter parried it, and responded with a riposte Caspian barely deflected. In his moment of confusion Caspian stumbled, falling off balance. Peter took full advantage and scored an excellent hit, winding Caspian through the heavy armour.

"Bend your legs more and watch your footwork... they are too close together."

Caspian nodded, not quite trusting his voice not to crack and waver.

They resumed, parrying, blow for blow. Sweat streamed down Caspian's face. "Heh-ehtchu!" he sneezed, tilting his head to the side but not moving to cover it. Peter used this as a chance to get in a strike, but backed off to allow Caspian to regain his balance. Caspian retaliated, strong, but awkward in his strike.

Peter was secretly thrilled; Caspian had been improving of late, but today he seemed to be back to where he was before, reassuring Peter that his own skill was still legendary. A cool wind blew through and Caspian shivered even as the dark curls stuck to his head in his sweat.

The courtyard was surrounded by pillars, and in their shade Susan walked step-in-step with Aslan. Her velvety skirts swished silently, as did the lion's long tail, the tip and her hems ghosting over the cobblestones. They chatted quietly, Aslan probing gently at her life in England. He knew she would not be able to come back to Narnia. They fell quiet to watch the two boys – young men – spar with one another.

Aslan watched Susan watch Caspian. There – that was it. That was just it, really. She was growing up, becoming a woman. Already her body was swelling out into curves and her waist and face thinning, becoming more fine and more beautiful, than Aslan would have ever thought possible of the little girl who had come into Narnia long ago.

Swords continued to clang and Aslan looked to Peter, strong and firm, and Caspian... Caspian would be a fine king for his people, and for the Narnians.

"Peter is really trouncing Caspian," Aslan commented offhandedly.

"He's not just trouncing him – he's thrashing him. Look at the poor boy," Susan bit her lip.

Caspian sneezed again, twice, and three times. Peter allowed his opponent a few seconds for this, but was back at it again afterwards before Caspian could blow his nose or regain his bearings. Specks danced in front of his eyes and his head was pounding.

"He looks tired," Aslan agreed.

"He looks ill, I think," Susan said.

Caspian coughed harshly and swayed on his feet. Peter renewed his offensive, driving Caspian towards the pillars. Aslan gave her a sideways glance and made a small growling sound which Susan deciphered as a mix of agreement and disapproval. How observant his gentle Susan was.

"I will step in before Caspian faints..."

And compassionate.

"Peter, stop," she said, stepping out of the shadows to intervene. The light caught in her chestnut hair and Caspian reeled back a couple of steps, falling against the column. His chest heaved as he tried to get enough breath through his congested airways.

Peter looked at his sister's expression, "Susan? Is there something wrong?"

"Only with your eyes," she said, "look at your opponent, Peter."

"What?" he said, looking Caspian over, "He is nearly won over."

"He was won over before you begun."

Peter scrutinized Caspian.

"He's ill," Susan said, "can't you tell?"

Caspian was far too exhausted to protest as Susan reached to touch his face, though he was mortified by it; she was treating him like a child. Susan could feel the heat beneath his skin, sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion, though the rest of the heat was dry fever-heat, "He is hot, feverish I think, but after having to battle you like that I can't be sure."

"He's fine," Peter said sharply, unwilling to believe that his victory was because his opponent was ill and that he'd been too blind and inattentive to realize it.

"Heehtchu," Caspian sneezed again.

Aslan shook his great mane and Peter turned his attention to him, "He is not fine. We should take him to his chambers to rest."

"I am fine," Caspian tried to insist, but his rough, breathy voice betrayed him.

"You are not," Susan said, imitating her mother. Caspian quivered, shivering now that he wasn't moving.

"It's just this armour and the sunshine, see, I am perfectly fine," Caspian insisted, pushing himself off of the column he was leaning against to assume a fighting stance. He shivered violently though, and then felt his legs giving way beneath him. In an instant Peter was there to support him.

"Put him on my back," said Aslan, leaning down to allow Caspian to climb onto the great lion. Caspian would be more honoured by this if he were not so humiliated and so near loosing consciousness. "Susan, go on ahead and prepare Caspian's chambers for him. Get a basin with some cold water and some hot water for tea. Build up the fire, but not overly much. You can help care for him."

Susan nodded and went on ahead.

"And me?" Peter asked.

"Clean up the equipment and see if there is anyone Caspian is to be meeting with. You are to assume his duties as well as your own until he is recovered."

"All of it?"

Aslan nodded, "You should have noticed that he was ill before you began. He might not be so bad off if it weren't for him exerting himself."

Peter agreed, quietly, "I suppose so, yes."

Aslan carefully began to pad towards the castle again, trying to ignore the tugging Caspian was doing; he was having a hard time hanging on, sneezing and coughing into the great lion's mane.

"Eh... hetchu!" Caspian sneezed, thinking to himself through the haze: Susan was going to take care of him, going to nurse him... this day was looking considerably better.

Author's Notes: Book verse or movie verse? Probably more movie verse as I haven't read the book in a very long time, but I don't think I'm stepping out of canon too far here.
I'm assuming that the four Pevensies spend a bit of time in Narnia after the battle to see Caspian into his kingship and help him rebuild and clean up (not to mention PARTY). After this they go through the door... I don't remember exactly how long it was. This takes place a few weeks after the big battle and the raising of the river-god.

Disclaimer: Ah, C.S. Lewis and company... I'm not even slashing them. I'm not making any profit by writing this, and I think you'll agree that there are lots of parts in the series that could be filled out a little by amateurs such as me. This has been written strictly for my pleasure and for the pleasure of those who read it on the interweb.