Insomnia - Susan/Caspian
TITLE: Insomnia
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: After the battle at Miraz's Castle, Susan seeks comfort in the only place she can find it.
FANDOM: Narnia (Susan/Caspian)
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
AUTHORS NOTE: My first ever Susan/Caspian fic. Written for Weekly Drabble Challenge #20 at susancaspian
*~*
It was a gorgeous night. The sky was clear and filled to the brim with stars that twinkled merrily in the darkness. The air was crisp and fresh and brought the welcoming smell of Jasmine from a plant hidden somewhere out of sight. And a myriad of birds and insects chirped and shuffled around in a dance that soothed the senses and pushed Susan further and further towards sleep.
But she couldn't sleep. She couldn't relax. Not when the horrors of battle were so fresh.
The blood, the gore, the screaming, the clash of swords, the twang of her bow as it released arrow after arrow... and most of all... Susan closed her eyes and grimaced... the moment where everything went wrong. The moment where she was forced to gallop fiercely into the night leaving a piece of her heart with the Narnian's trapped behind.
Susan lifted a hand and clutched at her chest; the despair and guilt she felt was suffocating. It burnt from the center of her heart and spread across her lungs restricting her ability to breathe until she was gasping into the night. It felt like a rock was sitting on her chest. A rock that she could never truly remove because if she did all her insides would fall out. Susan shivered and wrapped her free arm around her stomach, she was vaguely aware that she was hyperventilating, but that fact didn't seem to resonate in her battle worn mind.
Suddenly warm fingers brushed lightly against her arm, and Susan turned her head to see Caspian awake and staring at her in the darkness. “Breathe,” he whispered his voice so low that it barely reached her ears, “your having a panic attack.”
His words did nothing to calm her, if anything Susan's breath just picked up and it wasn't until his hand squeezed her arm warningly that she managed to get a grip on herself and calm down.
“Are you okay?” he asked as his hand released its grip.
Susan nodded and swallowed her eyes gazing unseeingly up at the sky. This was all too much for her to handle. This isn't what she wanted. A couple of days ago she was in London and her biggest problem was fighting the advances of a boy she didn't like. Now... she had the death of several hundred Narnian's on her consciousness. Susan sighed and threw an arm over her eyes, then several seconds later removed her arm and rolled onto her side, she shifted position several more times before settling back down onto her back hands clenched into tense fists on either side of her body.
She was just drifting into a very light agitated doze when suddenly warm fingers brushed over her clenched hand.
Susan froze.
The light touch didn't leave.
Slowly ever so slowly, Susan opened her eyes and turned her head to see Caspian laying on his side facing her, his eyes were open and his arm was stretched across the distance between them to lightly touch her hand with his fingertips. His eyes were incredibly dark and intense and seemed to be saying something that she couldn't understand. Susan swallowed and lowered her gaze to his hand. It was relaxed and rested lightly over her clenched fist, his long fingers brushing gently over her skin.
In any other circumstance Susan probably would have brushed his hand away and rolled over, but there was something comforting about his warm skin against hers. It gave her some sort of hope that even after a war there could still be some peace and comfort in this world. So she relaxed her fist and gently maneuvered their hands until they were twined comfortably together.
It was a strange sensation. To be lying in the cover of darkness holding the hand of someone you never expected to be close to. But Susan understood the origins of the touch. It wasn't about love or passion, it was about need and trust. They had both been through a horrible day filled with death and betrayal and needed something or someone to assure them that everything was going to be okay. Susan understood that. She needed that.
But it wasn't enough. Susan didn't even realise that she had been moving steadily closer to his warmth until her nose was resting mere centimeters from his and all she could see was his eyes. Susan cringed and hastily began moving back but an arm around her waist stopped her retreat.
“Stay,” Caspian murmured softly before pulling her completely against him.
On her part, Susan was too shocked to say anything. All she could see was Caspian's lips and throat and she was surrounded by a scent so masculine and individually him that her body was practically trembling with the awareness. She had never felt so warm and protected in her entire life; his arm was firm and sure around her waist and she could feel every inch of him pressing along the length of her body. On the one hand it felt incredibly wrong, he was too close, this was too personal and she wanted nothing more than to shove him out of her personal space. But on the other she just wanted to grab him and drag him closer, because nothing compared to what she was feeling right now. This was comfort in its most primal sense. His warmth, smell and touch all worked together to sooth her senses and shove away her worries and fears, leaving her one hundred times lighter.
It was here in his arms that Susan's mind finally slowed down, her body relaxed, and she was able to fall asleep for the first time that night.
THE END
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