Fanfic : Crossing Borders
Title: Crossing Borders
Author maaike_fluffy
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian movie-verse
Pairing: Caspian/Susan
Rating: Fiction rated K
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia were created and written by C. S. Lewis. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Prince Caspian and the Pevensies continue their life after their farewell, but none of them can stop dwelling on the past.Then Caspian makes a decision; If she can't come to him, then he'll have to find her. Movie-verse. Not beta-ed.
Chapter 1: The Horn and the Tree
Chapter 2: The Crown of Narnia
Chapter 3: The Shadows Behind the Tree
Chapter 4: Relapse
Chapter 5: Failure
Chapter 6: The Beast Behind the Bush
Chapter 7: The House and the Woman
Chapter 8: Progress with Setbacks
Visiting Finchley
The second train ride was only short, just two stops away from King’s Cross, and Caspian-who had stayed very much awake during this second ride-had spotted the signs bearing the name Finchley before the train had even properly stopped. Unlike the first train ride, which had been late in the evening, the train was rather full this time, mostly with stiff looking men with suitcases and the same strange hats he had seen yesterday. Caspian was glad to finally exit the train, partly because he was now closer to finding the Kings and Queens of Old, but also because of the way his fellow travellers kept glancing in his direction. The way they eyed him reminded Caspian that it wasn’t customary for people in this world to be carrying around swords. Still, Caspian did not want to part with it; he felt uneasy enough walking around in a unfamiliar world on his own, he did not want to put away the only thing that made him feel a little more secure.
Caspian stood still in the busting crowd of entering en exiting travellers. This station looked like a combination of both Coombe Halt and King’s Cross-it was outdoors, like Coombe Halt had been, but it was much larger and had several platforms. Unlike Coombe, there were no fields or grassy slopes here. This area was much more closely inhabited, and Caspian suddenly realised that-even though he had found their city-he still didn’t know where they lived. He didn’t let that dampen his spirits though; he was proud of himself for already have gotten this far. But as the train left behind him and the crowd dissipated, Caspian decided he did need to come up with a plan. He didn’t know how big this city was, but one of these people was bound to know the Kings and Que-No, the Pevensie children.
And so Caspian started asking around; addressing people on the platform and the streets. No one seemed to be able to help him, and Caspian started to stray from the train station, asking around as he went. One woman knew the name Pevensie, but thought they lived in Kent-wherever that might be. Another woman said the eldest had gone to school with her son, but she hadn’t heard of him in a long time.
It wasn’t until he reached a marketplace that he realised how hungry he was. He looked at a stand wistfully. There were apples and pears, potatoes and radishes, all of which looked very good to Caspian. He thought of the satchel of gold in his bag and wondered how the people would react if he tried to pay with them. There was no real harm in trying; he’d have to find something to eat sooner or later. In a forest he could sustain himself, but not here…
One young woman with curly brown hair, a heavy grocery bag on one arm and a bawling baby on the other was the most help to him; she knew a Mr and Mrs Pevensie that lived at Chesterfield Road five years ago, and pointed him in the right direction.
The houses here are grand, Caspian mused as he walked street after street. The people inhabiting them must be rich indeed. Most manors had yards with long straight driving lawns, short cut grass and unnatural square ponds. The first two men he met told him they had never heard of the Pevensies, but that he was on the right way to Chesterfield Road. The third, however, a blonde haired, slightly overweight man walking his dog, proved to be more useful.
“George and Helen Pevensie? I sure do know them. They used to live not two blocks from here. My daughter takes piano lessons with their youngest, Lucy.” The man gave a sharp tug on the leash to keep his dog from straying, and Caspian wondered briefly what the dog would have said if it had been a Talking Beast. He cleared his mind and directed his attention to the man again.
“Used to live, sir? Do they not live there anymore?”
“Bombings.” The man grunted. Caspian, who, despite the fact he still didn’t understand what these bombs were, knew enough to be aware of their disastrous effects, looked horrified. “They’re alright.” The man reassured him. “But he house was damaged; half of the wall got knocked down. It’s being restored right now, and in the mean time they’re staying somewhere else.”
“Please, sir, do you know where?” Caspian asked desperately.
“Well, I don’t know their address,” the man said with regret, “but I do know they now live in East Finchley.” Strangely enough he pointed to the north, before he quickly seized the leash to pull back his dog again. “That’s all I know.”
Caspian thanked the man, and started walking in the direction he had pointed out. It could have been worse. Caspian mused. He could have pointed me back in the direction where I came from. Before he had taken three steps, there was a sudden tap on his back and he turned around to see that the man hadn’t left yet.
“You LDV?” The man asked.
Caspian blinked, confused. “Excuse me?”
“Are you LDV? Did you join the Home Guard?” The man nodded at the sword at Caspian’s side.
“Oh, er… well…” Caspian stammered, unsure what Home Guard was and which answer he ought to give, and ultimately decided to go along with it; “Euhm.. yes.”
The man clapped him on the shoulder jovially. “Good for you, lad! I would have signed up if it weren’t for my arthritis. It’s about time we showed those Nazi’s what we’re made of.” With that the man whistled for his dog and walked on, leaving Caspian to find his way north. Nazi’s? But according to Rose they were fighting against Germans…
The sun rose high in the sky, and Caspian was still walking. According to the people on the streets-their number had grown as the hour grew later-he was on the right way to East Finchley, though more than a few asked him why he insisted to walk the way; wouldn’t the car be easier? Privately, Caspian thought he would be happy if he never saw the inside of a car again, but instead told them he didn’t own one, and that was, in fact, the truth. Luckily, the weather today wasn’t as hot as it had been yesterday, and Caspian now very much appreciated the lighter clothes Rose had given him. The sun, however, was still hot and merciless. Caspian’s face-burnt red when he had walked the sandy path between the houses of Rose and the Professor-now really started to hurt. However, the biggest of his worries was not the tender red skin, or, for that matter, his tired feet, but his thirst. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d left Rose’s house; and the hunger he could deal with, but the thirst worried him most. There were no clean springs here, as there might have been in Narnia, but only a dirty and shallow canal by the side of the street. The water looked filthy indeed, but Caspian began to think that, soon, he might not have another choice but to drink it.
Then, his eye fell on a large sign by the road, an advertisement for a green grocer at Queens Wood, and Caspian redirected his steps. For one, the word ‘Wood’ promised much welcomed shadow. Also, a green grocer would have food for him, maybe they would accept his money. It was real gold, after all; it had to have some value here. And thirdly Caspian couldn’t deny the lure of the word ‘Queen’. His decision was made in less than a second, and he followed the arrow on the sign.
He had lost all sense of time when he finally reached the edge of the park. It was mostly grass, but there were several broad trees that cast enough shadow for several men to escape the sun, but most importantly, there was a large, clear pond. Gratefully, Caspian rushed over to cool his feet and wash his arms and face. He even took a few gulps of water, and he was so thirsty he didn’t mind its bitter aftertaste. He sat down with his back against the tree trunk. Now that he was out of the sun and had most of his thirst quenched, he began to realise how hungry he was. There, across the street, was the grocer. From where he sat, Caspian could make out the melons and carrots behind the window. He dug in his bag for his gold. He had brought a lot, far more than was necessary, but he was willing to hand over everything if he could just eat something. Even though it was not the right currency, it had to have some value, surely? Caspian would have rested in the shadows longer, but his rumbling stomach and the gold burning in his bag soon prompted him to make his way to the grocer.
The melons and carrots, cherries and tomatoes all looked very alluring. What was he going to do if the grocer didn’t accept his gold? I could just grab something and run away. The thought popped up briefly in his head, but Caspian pushed it away just as quickly. No, it would do no good to steal. He was King of Narnia, thievery was below him; he might not have much, but he still had his dignity.
Through the glass, Caspian could see someone, no doubt the grocer, stepping outside. He grabbed for his satchel with the intention of asking the man if he would accept the gold, when the man said the least thing Caspian had expected; his name.
“P- Pr… Caspian?” There was astonishment, but also a certain level of uncertainty in the voice, and Caspian’s head snapped up. It’s wasn’t the grocer who had stepped outside.
“King Edmund!” Caspian’s face broke in a wide grin when he recognised the young King and rushed forwards, thanking Aslan and all the colours in his mane. “I cannot tell you how happy I am to have found you.” ‘Happy’ was indeed a poor description of the joy and relief Caspian felt.
Edmund’s reaction was less enthusiastic, but this was, Caspian assumed, because he was very shocked to see Caspian. Here. In his own world. “Caspian!” Edmund repeated, now that he was sure it was really him. “But…what…? Why are you here?”
To this Caspian had no straight answer and his broad grin faded slightly. Why was he here, really? What goal did he have? What purpose did his visit serve? Luckily for Caspian, Edmund did not wait for an answer, but asked more questions.
“Did you follow in after us? How did you find us? What happened to you?” At this last question Edmund looked at his clothes, and Caspian suspected he had never looked less kingly as he did right now.
“I needed to come over. There is trouble in Narnia, and-”
“And so you leave them?” Edmund cut him off, looking sceptical.
“Well, no…” Caspian objected, but his conscious said; Yes, that I did. “I needed to… Aslan…” He fell silent; he couldn’t give describe the urge he had felt to cross the portal after his last dream in Narnia, not could he explain why he was here. He ended up feeling slightly sheepish under Edmunds sharp gaze.
Thankfully, King Edmund the Just wasn’t only renowned for his sharp observation and direct manner, but also for his ability to give people the benefit of the doubt.
“Oh, come on.” He said, clapping Caspian on the shoulder, and his stern look made way for a more relaxed grin. “You look dreadful. You can tell us what happened when we get home. Oh, the girls will be so pleased to see you.” Edmund chuckled slightly and led the way. Caspian followed, and couldn’t help feeling slightly nervous of the reactions of the High King and the Queens…
Author maaike_fluffy
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian movie-verse
Pairing: Caspian/Susan
Rating: Fiction rated K
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia were created and written by C. S. Lewis. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Prince Caspian and the Pevensies continue their life after their farewell, but none of them can stop dwelling on the past.Then Caspian makes a decision; If she can't come to him, then he'll have to find her. Movie-verse. Not beta-ed.
Chapter 1: The Horn and the Tree
Chapter 2: The Crown of Narnia
Chapter 3: The Shadows Behind the Tree
Chapter 4: Relapse
Chapter 5: Failure
Chapter 6: The Beast Behind the Bush
Chapter 7: The House and the Woman
Chapter 8: Progress with Setbacks
Visiting Finchley
The second train ride was only short, just two stops away from King’s Cross, and Caspian-who had stayed very much awake during this second ride-had spotted the signs bearing the name Finchley before the train had even properly stopped. Unlike the first train ride, which had been late in the evening, the train was rather full this time, mostly with stiff looking men with suitcases and the same strange hats he had seen yesterday. Caspian was glad to finally exit the train, partly because he was now closer to finding the Kings and Queens of Old, but also because of the way his fellow travellers kept glancing in his direction. The way they eyed him reminded Caspian that it wasn’t customary for people in this world to be carrying around swords. Still, Caspian did not want to part with it; he felt uneasy enough walking around in a unfamiliar world on his own, he did not want to put away the only thing that made him feel a little more secure.
Caspian stood still in the busting crowd of entering en exiting travellers. This station looked like a combination of both Coombe Halt and King’s Cross-it was outdoors, like Coombe Halt had been, but it was much larger and had several platforms. Unlike Coombe, there were no fields or grassy slopes here. This area was much more closely inhabited, and Caspian suddenly realised that-even though he had found their city-he still didn’t know where they lived. He didn’t let that dampen his spirits though; he was proud of himself for already have gotten this far. But as the train left behind him and the crowd dissipated, Caspian decided he did need to come up with a plan. He didn’t know how big this city was, but one of these people was bound to know the Kings and Que-No, the Pevensie children.
And so Caspian started asking around; addressing people on the platform and the streets. No one seemed to be able to help him, and Caspian started to stray from the train station, asking around as he went. One woman knew the name Pevensie, but thought they lived in Kent-wherever that might be. Another woman said the eldest had gone to school with her son, but she hadn’t heard of him in a long time.
It wasn’t until he reached a marketplace that he realised how hungry he was. He looked at a stand wistfully. There were apples and pears, potatoes and radishes, all of which looked very good to Caspian. He thought of the satchel of gold in his bag and wondered how the people would react if he tried to pay with them. There was no real harm in trying; he’d have to find something to eat sooner or later. In a forest he could sustain himself, but not here…
One young woman with curly brown hair, a heavy grocery bag on one arm and a bawling baby on the other was the most help to him; she knew a Mr and Mrs Pevensie that lived at Chesterfield Road five years ago, and pointed him in the right direction.
The houses here are grand, Caspian mused as he walked street after street. The people inhabiting them must be rich indeed. Most manors had yards with long straight driving lawns, short cut grass and unnatural square ponds. The first two men he met told him they had never heard of the Pevensies, but that he was on the right way to Chesterfield Road. The third, however, a blonde haired, slightly overweight man walking his dog, proved to be more useful.
“George and Helen Pevensie? I sure do know them. They used to live not two blocks from here. My daughter takes piano lessons with their youngest, Lucy.” The man gave a sharp tug on the leash to keep his dog from straying, and Caspian wondered briefly what the dog would have said if it had been a Talking Beast. He cleared his mind and directed his attention to the man again.
“Used to live, sir? Do they not live there anymore?”
“Bombings.” The man grunted. Caspian, who, despite the fact he still didn’t understand what these bombs were, knew enough to be aware of their disastrous effects, looked horrified. “They’re alright.” The man reassured him. “But he house was damaged; half of the wall got knocked down. It’s being restored right now, and in the mean time they’re staying somewhere else.”
“Please, sir, do you know where?” Caspian asked desperately.
“Well, I don’t know their address,” the man said with regret, “but I do know they now live in East Finchley.” Strangely enough he pointed to the north, before he quickly seized the leash to pull back his dog again. “That’s all I know.”
Caspian thanked the man, and started walking in the direction he had pointed out. It could have been worse. Caspian mused. He could have pointed me back in the direction where I came from. Before he had taken three steps, there was a sudden tap on his back and he turned around to see that the man hadn’t left yet.
“You LDV?” The man asked.
Caspian blinked, confused. “Excuse me?”
“Are you LDV? Did you join the Home Guard?” The man nodded at the sword at Caspian’s side.
“Oh, er… well…” Caspian stammered, unsure what Home Guard was and which answer he ought to give, and ultimately decided to go along with it; “Euhm.. yes.”
The man clapped him on the shoulder jovially. “Good for you, lad! I would have signed up if it weren’t for my arthritis. It’s about time we showed those Nazi’s what we’re made of.” With that the man whistled for his dog and walked on, leaving Caspian to find his way north. Nazi’s? But according to Rose they were fighting against Germans…
The sun rose high in the sky, and Caspian was still walking. According to the people on the streets-their number had grown as the hour grew later-he was on the right way to East Finchley, though more than a few asked him why he insisted to walk the way; wouldn’t the car be easier? Privately, Caspian thought he would be happy if he never saw the inside of a car again, but instead told them he didn’t own one, and that was, in fact, the truth. Luckily, the weather today wasn’t as hot as it had been yesterday, and Caspian now very much appreciated the lighter clothes Rose had given him. The sun, however, was still hot and merciless. Caspian’s face-burnt red when he had walked the sandy path between the houses of Rose and the Professor-now really started to hurt. However, the biggest of his worries was not the tender red skin, or, for that matter, his tired feet, but his thirst. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d left Rose’s house; and the hunger he could deal with, but the thirst worried him most. There were no clean springs here, as there might have been in Narnia, but only a dirty and shallow canal by the side of the street. The water looked filthy indeed, but Caspian began to think that, soon, he might not have another choice but to drink it.
Then, his eye fell on a large sign by the road, an advertisement for a green grocer at Queens Wood, and Caspian redirected his steps. For one, the word ‘Wood’ promised much welcomed shadow. Also, a green grocer would have food for him, maybe they would accept his money. It was real gold, after all; it had to have some value here. And thirdly Caspian couldn’t deny the lure of the word ‘Queen’. His decision was made in less than a second, and he followed the arrow on the sign.
He had lost all sense of time when he finally reached the edge of the park. It was mostly grass, but there were several broad trees that cast enough shadow for several men to escape the sun, but most importantly, there was a large, clear pond. Gratefully, Caspian rushed over to cool his feet and wash his arms and face. He even took a few gulps of water, and he was so thirsty he didn’t mind its bitter aftertaste. He sat down with his back against the tree trunk. Now that he was out of the sun and had most of his thirst quenched, he began to realise how hungry he was. There, across the street, was the grocer. From where he sat, Caspian could make out the melons and carrots behind the window. He dug in his bag for his gold. He had brought a lot, far more than was necessary, but he was willing to hand over everything if he could just eat something. Even though it was not the right currency, it had to have some value, surely? Caspian would have rested in the shadows longer, but his rumbling stomach and the gold burning in his bag soon prompted him to make his way to the grocer.
The melons and carrots, cherries and tomatoes all looked very alluring. What was he going to do if the grocer didn’t accept his gold? I could just grab something and run away. The thought popped up briefly in his head, but Caspian pushed it away just as quickly. No, it would do no good to steal. He was King of Narnia, thievery was below him; he might not have much, but he still had his dignity.
Through the glass, Caspian could see someone, no doubt the grocer, stepping outside. He grabbed for his satchel with the intention of asking the man if he would accept the gold, when the man said the least thing Caspian had expected; his name.
“P- Pr… Caspian?” There was astonishment, but also a certain level of uncertainty in the voice, and Caspian’s head snapped up. It’s wasn’t the grocer who had stepped outside.
“King Edmund!” Caspian’s face broke in a wide grin when he recognised the young King and rushed forwards, thanking Aslan and all the colours in his mane. “I cannot tell you how happy I am to have found you.” ‘Happy’ was indeed a poor description of the joy and relief Caspian felt.
Edmund’s reaction was less enthusiastic, but this was, Caspian assumed, because he was very shocked to see Caspian. Here. In his own world. “Caspian!” Edmund repeated, now that he was sure it was really him. “But…what…? Why are you here?”
To this Caspian had no straight answer and his broad grin faded slightly. Why was he here, really? What goal did he have? What purpose did his visit serve? Luckily for Caspian, Edmund did not wait for an answer, but asked more questions.
“Did you follow in after us? How did you find us? What happened to you?” At this last question Edmund looked at his clothes, and Caspian suspected he had never looked less kingly as he did right now.
“I needed to come over. There is trouble in Narnia, and-”
“And so you leave them?” Edmund cut him off, looking sceptical.
“Well, no…” Caspian objected, but his conscious said; Yes, that I did. “I needed to… Aslan…” He fell silent; he couldn’t give describe the urge he had felt to cross the portal after his last dream in Narnia, not could he explain why he was here. He ended up feeling slightly sheepish under Edmunds sharp gaze.
Thankfully, King Edmund the Just wasn’t only renowned for his sharp observation and direct manner, but also for his ability to give people the benefit of the doubt.
“Oh, come on.” He said, clapping Caspian on the shoulder, and his stern look made way for a more relaxed grin. “You look dreadful. You can tell us what happened when we get home. Oh, the girls will be so pleased to see you.” Edmund chuckled slightly and led the way. Caspian followed, and couldn’t help feeling slightly nervous of the reactions of the High King and the Queens…