Title: Balance
Day/Theme: 5. Cough.
Series: Chronicles of Narnia
Character/Pairing: Susan/Caspian
Rating: PG13



She dreamed she was back on an empty battleground, an arrow nocked, the earth scattered and disturbed in great furrows, massive stones still laying embedded in turf but the scene empty of corpses, bereft of any other warriors.

Her skin was still prickling, and she was breathing too fast, like she'd been in battle, like she'd been preparing for a fight.

Scattered drifts of mist slid across the ground, lending a dreaming softness to the brutal scene of aftermath. She turned in a slow circle, scanning the line of trees.

She wasn't quite expecting what she saw, but it hit her hard enough to knock the breath clear; she gasped for it and then cried out his name, half-lunging forward.

Unexpectedly the charnel smell of a battleground hit her, making her cough rackingly, clutching her throat, gagging on the aroma of bloody death and pain, cries echoing in her ears.

And then pain, raw and jagged in her chest, of every injury and every heartbreak condensed into one horrible, grating moment. She staggered and nearly went to her knees, her whole soul pulsing with the pain, spun out into one long aching thread of agony.

Someone caught her arms, keeping her from falling; gloved hands, dark hair, the impression of his warmth and smell and his lips against her ear. "For all of this," he whispered, velvet-rich and close, "despite everything you have and would suffer--you wanted to stay?"

Her fingers locked onto his arms. "For Narnia," she whispered, the loss as shivering-new as though it had been yesterday, and then a thought so strong it pulsed between them like a heartbeat. For you.

He cupped her skull gently, mouth touching her cheek, fingers sliding into her hair and wrist warm against her neck, and the touch of his mouth was like silk--

Susan shot upright in bed, hand pressed to her thundering heart, and stared wide-eyed into the dark, feeling the touch still burn on her wrist, pain echoing in her chest, and when she turned her hand up her palm was marked with indentations that echoed mail armor.