For King and Country ⭒Caspian x Reader⭒

Epilogue

I smoothed my hand over the bodice of my gown; breathing deeply. Golden thread wove through the deep, red fabric.

Today's the day.

The doors to the throne room towered over me. Two attendants stood at the door with their hands poised to throw the doors open. 

"I'm afraid I'm going to trip and fall," I said; placing a hand to my chest as my heart beat rapidly. 

"I'll fall down with you if you do," Morgan said from behind me as she moved the long, red fabric of my train out behind me. A band of gold gleamed on her left hand. Upon her and Peter's return to Narnia, she sent a formal rejection of her betrothal to Doran. Peter swiftly set to wedding himself to her. The celebration of their union was a joyous affair full of dancing, laughter, and exultation over the long-awaited union of the pair.

"Count me in too," Titus said leaning on a cane. During the rescue mission, he had taken an arrow to the shin. From what we learned in the aftermath, Titus had begun to slip into the next world as the arrow had hit a vein causing great blood loss. Peter had dragged him into an alley and applied pressure until help had come—help being Lucy with her healing cordial. The cordial saved his life, but the damage to his leg gave him enough grief he couldn't walk without the support. 

As silent as the wind, a great creature strode up beside me, "Are you ready to be officially crowned Queen of Narnia, Daughter of Eve?"

His golden eyes stared unblinkingly at me as a smile softened his snout.  For what some would consider such a threatening creature, peace radiated off of him. My worries fell away. 

"Yes, Aslan. I think I'm ready," I said; straightening my back. 

Morgan and Titus were my royal escorts for the ceremony—an honor to go before the queen and lead her to her throne—to her future.

With a bow of his head, Aslan signaled for the attendants to open the door. Titus and Morgan strode forward under an arch of swords raised high over our heads by a line of majestic centaurs. 

As I stepped over the threshold, the entire hall rose to their feet. Courtiers who had once been skeptical of my mere presence in the country looked on with respect at me as I glided down the marble walkway. 

The Pevensies stood at the front; wearing the crowns they had worn hundreds of years ago. Their presence was a blessing and a comfort to herald in mine and Caspian's joint reign.

The mighty pillars of the throne room stretched up to the ceiling towards a fresco of dryads dancing in a clearing joined by fauns and other creatures. Wisteria crawled over the walls of the throne room; bringing in a touch of the wild beauty of Narnia.

At the head of the room stood Caspian; a crown of pure gold rested on his head, and a red robe cloaked his shoulders. He looked like a king out of the tales I read as a child. His eyes gleamed with pride as I walked towards the altar.

I was wedding myself to Narnia that day; committing myself to her until the day I would pass on. Since our return to Narnia, Caspian had asked multiple times if I would have liked a ceremony for our own wedding, but I declined each time. The private moment we shared with Una as our witness was something that decadence, crowds, and dresses of silk couldn't supersede. 

The stained-glass windows let layers of early morning light fall onto the thrones carved of stone.  At the head of each throne held a symbol—something that represented both Caspian and I each. 

Caspian's symbol was that of the Dawn Treader for he was King Caspian X, The Navigator, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands.  The second throne's helm had sat empty for years as Caspian had waited for the day he would find a queen, a companion, a kindred soul to sit at his side. Carved upon the helm of my throne was an olive branch. A symbol of peace; mediation.