The Faded Portrait of a Bygone Era

A Revelation in Archenland - One Shot

Despite the protests of the dryads, Margaret leapt from her bed, Lucy's cordial in hand, and met Caspian halfway, in the courtyard. Glenstorm carried the weary King upon his back, but Caspian waved away any attempt to help him down. He was conscious; that much Margaret thanked Aslan for.

When he laid eyes on her, he paused. It might not have been noticeable to anyone else, but she was in only her night dress, and he was her husband. An expression came over his face, much akin to the one he had worn upon the realization all those years ago, at the End of the World, that she would be permitted to stay at his side.

They fell into each other's arms, each supporting the other.

"My love..." Caspian said breathlessly, pressing his cheek to her temple.

"Caspian," Margaret gasped.

His hands found her waist, her cheek, her shoulders; tangling in the unkempt curls of her hair and pulling her close, until he winced, some awkward angle jarring his bandaged side.

The sudden realization struck her, and just as quickly as she'd rushed to hold him, she pressed the cordial to his lips.

Moments later, he was holding her again, much more fiercely than before.

And when he carried her back to their chambers, she didn't protest, content simply to be in his arms.

-

The dryads insisted that bedrest would be the best course of action, considering how often the child was causing her to be ill. Margaret detested it, of course, for she was a warrior, and a queen who loved nothing more than to be out and active amongst her people. But for her own health, and the health of her child, she reluctantly resigned herself to droll paperwork until the dryads and the fauns declared her fit for more.

In the silence of peace, when no responsibilities took precedence, she and Caspian spent some quiet times together. Most often in the evenings, the dusk hour, when the tensions of the day had begun to unwind for all, they stole away precious, private moments.

Margaret would lay in bed, gazing out the window as her subjects above began to make their appearance, and Caspian would hold her. With his body cradling hers from behind, his arm draped over the growing proof of their child and his face lovingly tucked into the crook of her neck, they would watch the Sun set together, pondering in quiet murmurs what changes their little one would bring.

-

The last time a child had arrived, it did not bode well for Caspian. But this child, his child, came not in the dead of night, but at the dawn; greeted by the first rays of morning, in that still, quiet moment that lingers just before the world has taken its first breath. Before the bustle of life begins, and all things awake to find the Stars have gone, the son of Caspian the Tenth and Margaret the Resilient was born.

And Caspian held his little family in his arms, as he had so often done before his son arrived; Margaret, curled safe in his arms, and now, his son, tucked away in her hold.

Just the same as before, and yet so very different.

-

They debated for a while on the matter of his name. Margaret had at first suggested Caspian the Eleventh, but her husband declined it immediately.

"That name has caused much pain to the Narnian people," he said. "Let us leave it behind, and enter this new era with a strong name for our son."

And so the first son of Caspian the Tenth came to be named Rilian, with his father's dark eyes and brown hair that gleamed with a hint of red under the Narnian sun. When he had grown some, Margaret would often remark that he had Caspian's compassion and Edmund's noble heart, determined to do right by the people he would someday inherit.

Then came Susanna, the second born; a daughter with that dark hair so traditional of Telmar. Her eyes weren't quite so steely as her mother's, laced with the blue of the clear, Northern Sky. She had her mother's resilient fierceness, Peter's stubbornness, and Lucy's roaring bravery.

"This one is different," said Margaret of the third, before he had even been born. "I can feel it. Not because of some dream or sign; I simply know it must be true."

The third child of Caspian the Tenth opened sharp gray eyes upon the world when he was born, a wisp of flaming hair upon his head, and Margaret named him for her brother.

He grew into a gentle soul, after Susan, but most of all, he valued bravery and strength of character, just as his namesake, the Magnificent, the eldest Pevensie, before him.

And when young Peter began to dream of things that came to pass, Margaret taught him all that she knew of being a Seer of Narnia. He spent much of his childhood upon her lap beneath the starry sky, as his mother carefully told him each one's name.

He grew into a young man who longed to not only dream of things to come, but also to have great adventures of his own. So he sailed to the End of the World, and returned with a Star for a wife. Not Lilliandil, but a bright young lady nonetheless who had been visiting Ramandu when Peter arrived.

The serpent did not kill the queen; Rilian remained safe in Narnia and was not stolen away by some witch's dark powers. Instead, he met a young maid in Archenland and fell madly in love. Much more rigid in matters of the heart than his brother, he did not profess his feelings right away. It took the course of several years and many long journeys to Archenland to visit her, along with hundreds of letters penned between them before he at last asked for the honor of her hand.

Susanna never married, though she remained content. It was not Aslan's will, she would always say, and that was quite alright by her. She spent much of her time secluded amongst the Narnian folk in the far reaches of the wilderness, though she was sure to visit her brothers and her parents often. Later in life, she would go on to become one of Narnia's greatest generals, once Glenstorm had retired to the peace of the Western Wood.

Sometimes, Margaret's heart longed for another daughter, for her children to match the number of her siblings, but she made peace with the fact that it was not meant to be, and loved the ones that were gifted to her with all her heart.

On some days, when she found herself missing Susan and Lucy and Edmund and Peter most fiercely, she looked upon the whole of Narnia and saw them there. She saw Peter's stern protectiveness in the rigid cliffs of the northern lands, and Susan's love in the warmth of the southern sands. In the boughs and branches of the western woods, she saw Edmund's stalwart endurance, and on the gentle waves of the eastern sea, Lucy's kindness washed in with the tide.

And when she remembered to search for her family in the life and livelihood of the world around her, Margaret never felt alone. With Caspian and her children held close, she faced each day with courage and love in her heart, until the end of her time.