#adventurecalled

There's a grimness now overshadowing everything. Not even the consideration of a holiday from school could dispel such thick, nearly impenetrable, gloom. She still has time before boarding the train, so she terries at the magazine stand. There's one in particular that grabs her attention. The Macready had organized a shoot at the professor's place, boasting of his considerable antiquated holdings and showcasing his more famous collections.

Cerulean eyes practically devour the words with voracious appetite. She can NOT help but search EVERY picture intently. Had anyone else discovered their beloved LAND? And as Susan turns the next page, a raucous NOISE startles her. It's a blaring blast of a car horn warning some bubbleheaded jaywalker to be more attentive. It heralds a brief and rather annoyed glance before her gaze returns to the article.

There, ushered upon the next whirling, rain-drenched breeze is a FAMILIAR timbre. One, she almost believed that she had IMAGINED. "Caspian?" The name escapes quivering lips hushed, in the form of a prayer. The paper she had been reading, from the news stand is promptly discarded and she blinds, dispelling every ounce of disbelief from her form.

As if her utterance had summoned him, the way her horn had brought the Pevensie children back to Narnia, he appears on the steps below her. What fortune had rendered him present? Was she awake? Or dreaming?

The first few inches forwards are tread with caution and a glance is spared towards all the onlookers. Onlookers who, were seeing his manifestation TOO. Therefore, he MUST be every bit as REAL as she is.

The pronouncement of Narnia's peril propels her out of a state of shock and into motion. Her suitcase is abandoned beside an overeager want-to-be suitor. One who she told, her name was Phyllis. The stairs are hastily descended two so that she may reach his side in less than a breath of time.

Not wishing for the onlookers to believe she is quite mad, for Narnia to them, did NOT exist, Susan threw her arms around him in reckless abandon. "Caspian, I've missed you!!!" Careful fingers thread through his glorious crown of dark-hair. It is HIM. He was every bit as WONDERFUL as she remembered. The affectionate embrace is but a cover to shield him from harsh Londoner's scrutiny.

Outnumbered Dermont Kennedy

Everywhere you look (I know this one is brief but my heart says do it anyways_

You Will Be Found

Thinking Out Loud

I Get to Love You

@adventurecalled

There's a stirring in the other room. One Susan couldn't possibly IGNORE, no matter how tempting the prospect was. Hurriedly she turns the corner, just in time to hear mention of Narnia. She opens her mouth to chastise Edmund and Lucy for harping on the subject when she finds herself standing in over a foot of water. "What in the WORLD are you doing? You are old enough, I shouldn't--" Her words cut out as a movement catches her attention.

Perplexed eyes fixate upon the painting with WATER now flooding out of in in a torrential torrent. Eustice surges forwards and Susan, follows to stop him. It only takes a moment wrestling for the water to get high enough for the furniture to start floating. ASLAN'S SAKES!!! Her UNCLE and AUNT were going to MURDER her for allowing this to take place on her watch.

That concern lasts for but a moment longer as she finds herself WHOLLY submerged. Dodging chairs and the writing desk, she pulls her way towards the surface to find the WARM air ---SALTED. Where there had been a ceiling moments ago, there was now nothing but open expanses of skies with seagulls eddying too and fro.

@adventurecalled

Escapes are rare and yet, they could still be afforded once -in-a-great-while. Far from the crowds of gawkers, well-wishers, beloved Narnians, Archenlanders, and Telemarines, Susan feels more liberated to catch her breath. In the privacy afforded by a fortress of high grass, she could be VULNERABLE. Vulnerable in ways that weren't befitting a prim and proper QUEEN.

(Or at least, Queen of Old, that is. Narnia had a new ruler- one who was capable, kind, determined, strong and handsome.)

There is something quite restorative about the salted breeze that whispers over the Eastern Ocean before meandering, quite intentionally, through every blade of grass. If one listened intently enough, one could nearly imagine the conspiratorial secrets shivered to the cooling ground.

She sighs contentedly, sprawling out her fatigue-riddled limbs until she can luxuriate in the sheer wonder of her natural habitation and in Caspian's presence. Here, with him, she can cast away all frightful recollection of wailing air-raid sirens. The war and all of its atrocities lays behind her-- on the other side of that wardrobe door.

SAFE. So very few things in this life made Susan feel confident or secure these days. YET, Caspian did. With one drifting glance into those ever steadfast and melting eyes of his, every one of her storms seems to quell.

His words garner a delighted glance upwards. "Don't appear as you enjoy hearing that so much," Susan teases with a pretensive sternness. His returned inquiry draws a smile across her unpainted lips. "I believe you missed the word reluctant. Reluctant adventurer." She patiently reminds him, for she is ever the cautious one. The one who constantly over-analyzes things and sides with patience over impulse. Still, Caspian did have a point. Deep below all her layers of prudence lay a more ADVENTUROUS SPIRIT. One, she is more willing to permit prevalence, in Caspian's company.

Then with her cerulean orbs catching refractions of ethereal moonlight, she remarks. "Besides your arms are the only shelter I require." The response feels particularly BRAVE and clever for her. Flirting was certainly not her forte, or so Lucy was apt to point out. Still Caspian made her want to try.

Schoolish daydreams couldn't hold a candle to the beauty he possessed. His countenance is far more handsome than any she had ever seen in London. His eyes had this way of making her melt from the outside, in. And she dared to drown in their dark, seemingly endless fathoms.