"you know, when you said you could sing, i just assumed you'd be bloody terrible. ever the surprise, o'callaghan."
[book 3 | can be read as standalone]
✳︎
she's his cousin's exchange student with a secret, and he's, well, a king of narnia (not a hig...
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☆○o。 。o○☆
She was pulled from her sleep in the middle of the night by a rough hand and an insistent grip, a pair of accusatory, wild eyes staring down at her from above. Alice couldn't recall when she had fallen asleep - it didn't happen often, after all. Perhaps it was something about being so close to the sea, although usually that seemed to have the opposite effect. Alice was unsure.
Still, perhaps the more pressing matter at hand was the increasing pressure of the grip on her left forearm which had jolted her from that calm world of dreamless sleep, and the pair of dark eyes which seemed almost lit up by the moonlight which crept through the gaps in the wood. The hammock in which she lay was still swinging as the result of the force he'd exerted.
Caspian.
Or, she supposed, King Caspian. It didn't change the fact that to her, he was no king. Not of the Narnia she knew, at least.
"Come with me." His voice was hurried as he pulled on her arm, lifting her out of the sling of fabric with a startling bang as she fell to the floor. Alice winced. The crew of the ship had barely just drifted off, and she wouldn't be surprised if she had woken them all up once again. With a glance to Lucy's still sleeping form, she breathed a sigh of relief. Not awake yet, then.
Alice was still afraid. Still wary. After all, her mission here was simple.
They would trust her, she would break her curse, and she would save her people. When she'd ruled, the Narnians had hunted those who were under her protection, trying in some way to get to her, thinking that she would stop her attacks if they attacked her own.
The Narnians hardly could've known that barely any of the attacks were of Alice's own volition.
She had always put it at the back of her mind - she preferred not to think of those who had died for her. Still. She would right her own wrongs.
Vaguely, she wondered if Edmund or Lucy had ever killed one of her subjects.
She doubted Lucy would've, but Edmund? She didn't know. He was closed off to her. She couldn't read him.
Caspian's grip on her arm was the only thing tethering her here, now, on the deck of the ship. Alice was thoroughly unaware of the motives behind his decision to rouse her so roughly and without warning, but as he dragged her into his cabin rather viciously, Alice doubted this was a friendly occasion.
Things were never friendly in the small hours of the morning.
He released her arm almost immediately after the door shut behind them, and she cradled it to her chest, near glaring at him. Surely this wasn't how people greeted strangers on Narnia's mainland. The boy - man, really - ran a hand through his hair with a groan of frustration, and Alice nearly flinched, her brow furrowed.
