Word count: 644
Prompt: Haunted
Notes:
• I had so much fun writing all of these! Thank you Magic of Narnia for hosting this challenge and I cannot wait for the next one💌
°
Things always seemed so much more frightening and confusing at night. The shadows on the castle walls were dark and deformed, misshapen and eerie. Noises came from seemingly nowhere— creaks and groans and whispers.
And Caspian was alone. Desolate, lonely, and cold. The only thing that sat beside him was his crown. Gold, slightly glistening in the thin stretch of moonlight that made it in through his window.
The blue gems glittered showily in the pale glow, a beautiful sight. So enchanting and expensive. Well made, like any king's crown.
His grandfather's crown, his father's crown, his uncle's crown, almost his cousin's crown, and finally, his crown.
His responsibility. His kingdom. His people.
Never, not once in his life, had he ever gotten the chance to want to be something. It was always decided for him. He was the king— there was no changing that fact.
And while some children got to plan— or at least imagine their lives and their jobs ahead of them, Caspian had his life set in stone. Planned.
His choice wasn't his choice at all.
The blankets felt thinner tonight, the cold felt colder tonight. The loneliness felt haunting tonight.
He felt so lost. Like he had nothing. Because he didn't.
Everything he loved was taken from him.
Susan. He loved her. What started out as a crush could've very well blossomed into love.
Lucy. His best friend. She was the sweetest young woman he'd ever met. Selfless. Valiant.
Edmund. His brother. Sarcastic and moody, but brave and loyal. Just and true.
Eustace. A friend. He hadn't known him for long— hadn't had a chance to get to know him. Left Narnia way too soon.
Lilliandil. His wife, his best friend, his star. The light in his life, doused. She was his everything.
Rilian. His baby, his family. He was his everything. Missing and never to be found again.
Even everything he didn't love was taken from him.
Miraz, his uncle. The man who hated his nephew because he was the son of his brother— and only because of that.
Prunaprismia, his aunt. Distant and strict, not as harsh as Miraz, but still, unloving.
Everything he might've been able to love— gone too.
Nothing stayed.
They all left, whether they were taken, or if by choice, they all left.
And it left him feeling so empty. Unexplainably bare. No one was there for him. No one was there.
It seemed that death and loss haunted him. Didn't let up. Didn't let go.
He wanted something to stay. Anything. Anyone. Just someone. It seemed whatever he loved, he broke. Growing up had been lonely besides Cornelius, but, even with him, his professor wasn't a child his age. He couldn't play with him outside and imagine. Growing up, Caspian had never had a friend— Miraz had made sure of that, but he didn't know why.
Why was it wrong to have a friend?
A question burned in his mind.
Was it wrong for him to love? To want? Was that selfish? Shouldn't he be greatful he at least got some love?
Besides, he was a king, he had a kingdom; shouldn't that be enough to satisfy him?
Yet it didn't. Because he didn't only want people, or a kingdom, or riches— he wanted love. Love that would stay and never leave.
He never wanted to lose again. So, for that to be true, wouldn't he have to never love again?
Caspian didn't know.
Then something stirred in his heart.
He did know one thing. He wasn't entirely alone. Someone was there. Someone he would never lose.
Constant.
Forever.
Loving.
Great and powerful. Soft and loving.
Aslan.
And even though Caspian did want friends, he knew he was never wholly alone. Aslan was always there, guiding and loving him.
No matter how alone he felt, he would never be truly all alone.