I do not own any part of 'The Chronicles of Narnia' series by C.S. Lewis and the following sequence is entirely imaginary.

Happy Coronation

Susan's POV

Susan smiled happily as she sat on her throne in the great hall of Cair Paravel, dressed in a magnificent swathe of forest green silk. Her golden crown sat atop her dark hair, which was twisted into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck and her blue eyes glowed. The four thrones had been rearranged to make room for a fifth, for the next King of Narnia. Caspian the tenth knelt at the base of the raised dais, being official crowned by Aslan. He stood as the ceremony reached its conclusion.

"Once a King or Queen of Narnia," Aslan's deep voice boomed, "Always a King or Queen of Narnia." The crowd of Old Narnians and Telmarines alike exploded into applause and cheers, as Caspian rose to take his rightful throne alongside the Kings and Queens of Old. He looked in a dazed state of amazement, a dreamy smile on his face and his eyes full of wonder. Aslan quietly slipped out of the room, undoubtedly off for some new adventure.

The Kings and Queens stood and swept from the dais and began to mingle in the delighted crowd. Susan found herself surrounded by laughing Telmarines, talking animals, and Narnians like the ones she had known in the old times. Music echoed hauntingly around the hall, the glass roof allowing the natural sunlight filtering into the room. And yet, Queen Susan found herself distracted, missing the punch line of jokes and responding to questions with inconclusive answers. Her keen eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a dark haired newly crowned King. She drifted to the outskirts of the hall, leaning against one of the marble columns; she watched the comings and goings with interest and a keen sense of missing something. She knew she belonged here, among these people – her people – and yet she also knew it wouldn't laugh. That was the way of things in Narnia. All things have their time.

"I didn't have you pinned as a wallflower," a particularly handsome man materialised by her side, also watching the crowds.

"Oh, just tired. Needed a bit of air," she shrugged, trying to sound dismissive.

"If you wanted air, why not escape to one of the balconies, the beach, the gardens-"

"I get your point," she ground out, rolling her eyes. She pushed off the column and felt King Caspian fall into step beside her. She set a quick pace, slipping as silently, as unnoticed as Aslan had from the party. Caspian followed her as they moved quietly through the maze of corridors, finally slipping through the doorway into a less used library study. Specifically, it was Queen Susan's private space, her retreat between worlds and sometimes her escape from Narnia, with all its pressures. She walked out onto the marble balcony, which was curved and looked out onto the beach and ocean which slipped over the horizon.

She sighed, laying her elbows against the railing and putting her chin in her hands; she looked far out into the distance, feeling more relaxed already. The sea air had the tendency to make her feel more open, braver – less contained. She sensed Caspian standing just behind her.

"How did you bring yourself to leave this beauty 3000 years ago?" He asked her, watching the surf break on the sand.

"Why does everyone assume it was a conscious decision?" She turned to face him, meeting his dark eyes with a steady gaze. "We never meant to leave. It happened before any of us knew what was going on, and the past year in our own world had been a nightmare for all of us." She bit her lip, as if she believed she'd said too much. "Not knowing what was happening in our precious Narnia, not knowing our friends were dying, not knowing how our palaces were falling. Being stuck in a world where we had no voice, no power... After coming from here where we were, are, royalty, back to being children. You don't understand how hard that was."

Caspian looked at her understandingly. He could imagine how difficult it would be for anyone to live in two worlds. "I'm glad you're here now," he said sincerely.

She smiled kindly at him. "And we have you to thank for that," she murmured, gesturing to her horn tied around his waist.

"Oh," he spluttered, untying it quickly and handing it over to her.

She shook her head. "Keep it – my gift to you on your coronation." She passed it back to him, with a wide smile and shining eyes. Caspian leaned in, wanting to see her beautiful eyes more closely. He tilted his head as though to bring her into better focus, and strangely it did. Her eyes widened as he stepped even nearer to her, snaking an arm around her waist.

"That's not the coronation gift I would like," he breathed gently.

"Well then, what may I give you instead?" she asked, already knowing what he would request from her, and being totally willing to give it. She gently snaked an arm around his neck, sweetening the question by twirling a few strands of his hair around her middle finger.

His breathing grew more ragged, as though he had run a long distance without stopping for food or water. "I think you know what I want, what I've wanted since the moment I first saw you in the wood."

She caressed his face with her eyes, smiling softly. "Happy coronation Caspian," she whispered into the space between them, before touching her lips gently to his. Caspian smiled against her lips and took control, softly moving against her mouth, probing tenderly with his tongue, pressing for entrance. She let him in happily with a sigh and a soft moan which rose from the back of her throat.

Caspian pulled her body tightly against his own, showing her the evidence of desire of her. She gasped in surprise, and Caspian released her a little, wondering if he'd gone too far. His lust infused brain hadn't really registered his actions. He blushed a little, unsure whether he ought to apologise. So imagine his shock when the Queen pressed herself even more tightly to his figure, flattening her chest against his. She pulled his head down for another kiss, this one more passionate. It lit him alight, sent fire burning through his veins and threw all rational thought from his mind. Susan whimpered against him, and Caspian redoubled his efforts to please her; he had lain with women before, but kissing this folktale heroine come to life he felt like a green boy. She was wantonly pulling at the ties of his shirt and running her archer's hands over his finely chiselled body, making Caspian groan as he moved his kisses down to her milky neck, pulling out her hair as he did so. Susan trailed the tips of her fingernails down from his chest, over his stomach, circled his navel a few times before hovering at the waistband of his trousers. Feeling her bold touches, Caspian bit down on her neck, making her cry out with pleasure. He then sucked the mark he had made on her neck, a little red bruise which would certainly still be visible in the morning. He seriously hoped High King Peter wouldn't ask –

High King Peter. That was a big enough jolt to make him realise what he was doing, how he had just marked Queen Susan the gentle as his own. He swore in his mind, and shoved her away almost roughly. They were both breathing heavily and when Caspian looked up at Susan, under her mussed hair and above her kiss swollen lips, her eyes were heavy with hurt. Her lip began to tremble a little, so she bit down on it hard. Caspian swore to himself again.

"Susan," he said quickly, "Think what your brother would do to me if he found out about this..."

The Queen traced a finger over the mark on her neck. "I suppose I'll have to wear my hair down tomorrow then." She looked sadly at him. "I think you should go now," she said softly. "But don't expect me to still be waiting for you in the morning."

"What?" He was puzzled, his eyebrows scrunching together in concern. "Are you leaving Narnia?"

She shook her head. "No. Not yet anyway; but I'm not a toy. You can't play with me, throw me down and expect me still to be there next time you get bored."

"Susan," he reached out to her, but she flinched back.

"Let me know when you decide if you actually want me or not," she said, hostility radiating in her tone.

"Oh, I want you," he groaned at the painful reminder of his desire for her.

Her eyes were like saucers, huge and imploring. "Then please," she placed a hand on his arm. "Don't leave me hanging."

Caspian inspected her face closely, looking for any evidence of her being unsure of what she was saying. "Please," she murmured, tilting her face up to him, begging for a kiss. His defences crumbled, as he crushed her to him, hands roving wildly over her luscious body. Susan was just as enthusiastic, allowing her hands to gloriously wander across his body, feeling his muscles leap beneath her fingers, and revelling in her power.

The newest King of Narnia swept one of the Queens of Old into his arms and carried her bridal style into her study, setting her tenderly on one of the plush sofas placed around the room. He crawled above her, hand reaching almost nervously to the ties at the front of Susan's green dress, trying not to let her see how his fingers shook at the thrill of stripping her. He pulled the front of the dress reverently apart when it was unlaced and bared her upper body to his keen eyes; her soft, milky shoulders, her toned, flat stomach, and perfectly sized breasts topped with nipples the colour of ocean coral. It was on these he centred his kisses, nipping and suckling each one in turn as she writhed beneath him, succeeding in inflaming his own desire even more. Her legs parted at some point to let him settle more comfortably between them and Caspian pulled off his shirt and kicked off his boots. His licked and trailed caresses down to her navel, taking his time over the sensitive spot, making her shiver and arch her back in delight.

He pushed her dress down further, and she kicked it off in hurried irritation. Caspian's hand ghosted over her womanhood, making her buck into him. He gently stroked her folds, feeling her wetness, before slipping one finger inside her. Queen Susan screamed in pleasure, her body thrashing wildly beneath Caspian's, which prompted him to quickly add a second finger, then a third.

Feeling this was unfair, Susan's hands scrabbled to the ties on his trousers, roughly loosening them and pushing the garment out of the way. She mewled like a cat when she felt him at her entrance, too excited to be nervous.

"Susan," Caspian gasped, " this might hurt, but I'll be as gentle as I can."

She placed a hand on his cheek. "I trust you."

He entered her in one stroke, breaking her maidenhead, and causing her to stiffen. She didn't cry, but measured her breathing harshly while Caspian lay still, although it half killed him. When she nodded he began to move within her, and in no time at all Susan's hips rose and fell in rhythm with his as they moved towards climax.

Susan hit hers first, the strength of her orgasm lifting them both from her sofa, her cry so loud it was a wonder no one came steaming in with their weapons draw; feeling her clench around him, Caspian drove home once more before he collapsed atop the gentle Queen, although he wouldn't be able to think of the title in quite the same way ever again.

He rolled off her too soon, so she rolled with him and lay on his chest, idly stroking his muscles. Caspian was almost beyond words.

"Well, you really did take me, didn't you," Susan mused to herself.

Caspian looked at her with questioning eyes.

"When I said you couldn't just put me down then take me again when you were bored, I didn't mean it quite so literally."

Caspian blushed, then groaned, then ground out, "You really are going to kill me."

Susan laughed musically and shook her head. "Don't worry about me – I'd say Peter is the bigger threat to your health."

Caspian's eyes rolled back, and his head lolled against the cushions. "Thank you for that comforting thought."

Queen Susan shrugged then kissed him. "I'm sure you'll survive."