𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 || Narnia x The Hunger Games Crossover

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lucy bolted awake with a gasp as her lungs tightened and she choked for air, grasping at solid stone as an icy breeze nipped her damp throat and the sea of roses fell away to leave her drenched in cold sweat and shivering in the empty shelf.

Alone.

Early dawn light poured in through the wide rectangular opening, Caspian's body no longer shielding her from the outside world.

Panic spiked in her chest, rough stone cold beneath her fingertips as she gulped deep breaths and crawled out into the alabaster white corridor, misty orange sunrise trickling over cracked walls to the east.

She spun, eyes flying over the ruinous landscape until Caspian's familiar figure turned away from the opposite ledge overlooking the rest of the castle, and Lucy slumped back against their shelf, head spinning.

He moved at once to join her, concern etched into his brow. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed as he reached her side and slipped a hand around her back. "Just a nightmare. And then you weren't there and… it's fine, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, I only had a look 'round, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know, it's not your fault," she breathed, though her stomach turned with an image of roses. "I should be able to sleep on my own at this age."

"Why?" He squeezed her shoulder and smiled faintly. "I can't."

Lucy glanced up and instantly regretted her choice of words. "I didn't mean… I… nevermind." She sighed and closed her eyes for a few moments to clear her head before nodding toward the ledge. "See anything interesting?"

"Thankfully, no."

Caspian pulled the backpack from their shelf and unzipped it, taking out the last of their roll of bandages.

"We should get moving, but I want to check your leg first. How does it feel?"

"Alright, actually," said Lucy, wincing only slightly with the effort of propping it up into his reach.

He rolled her pant leg up and unwound the bloodstained gauze to reveal a pale, scarring wound, unrecognizable from the mess it had been yesterday by the pool, the miraculously diminished tooth marks now almost resembling a human limb.

Caspian swabbed it with the sharp-smelling antiseptic from her first aid kit and wrapped it in fresh white bandages, wisps of dark hair slipping absently over his eyes as he worked.

She'd thought him handsome when they first met, but now his perfection came almost more from familiarity than beauty. She looked into his eyes and she did not think them beautiful, she thought them deep and lonely and wonder-filled. She watched his strong silhouette and she did not see high cheekbones or the attractive ridge of his nose, she saw strength edged in a pale sunrise, she saw resolute constancy.

And something fluttered inside her, a mix between safety and dread; and something else, that same bubbling sensation that filled her up to bursting every time he held her, every time their eyes met with such a depth of understanding that she felt he was looking straight into her soul.

"Shall we move, then?" He rolled down her trousers again and slung the backpack over his shoulder.

She glanced around and shook off her thoughts as she stood.

Anyone might be hanging around here, still; Edmund, Lilliandil, Rabadash.

Susan and Rhince were probably headed back toward their valley, where the hunting would be easy, but the others might be anywhere.

"May as well," she said, "There's nothing worth eating around here, anyway. Unless you want to find out what dragon-vulture tastes like."

Caspian wrinkled his nose. "No thanks."