Dreams came from memory and hope; nightmares came from memory and fear.
All of it from what had happened, from what could've happened.
From what didn't.
Caspian's seemed to remember much and fear even more.
Amidst every memory, every thought, Miraz seemed ever present. Everything he'd said and done echoed into Caspian's dreams, and they quickly turned to nightmares, tormenting him in his sleep.
He tried to think of happier things, but there wasn't much to think about there.
If it wasn't Uncle Miraz, it was a blurry image of his parents, disappointed and harsh; a creation of Miraz's words long before.
The dreams, which he could never really explain, were of his parents' deaths, many times, ever-changing.
Marrying- but he could never see her face before she would be ripped away.
Being small again, unable to defend himself. Receiving a harsh slap to the face.
The worst were the darkest, loneliest dreams. The castle empty- empty of all but himself. He would wander alone, endlessly, for what felt like forever.
Caspian could rarely wake himself up, trapped for the entire night in whatever horrors his mind created, remembered; feared.
Many times he dreamed of his uncle's general about to murder him. The panic in these moments was the worst he'd ever felt, reminiscent of the night he ran away, but he couldn't stop it.
In his dreams, he often found himself full of overwhelming guilt about the attack on Miraz's castle.
He wouldn't admit to being to blame- but was he?
The castle drawbridge was a place he now avoided as much as possible. Until his new home was finished, he had to live at the castle; among the memories. They haunted him day and night.
In dreams- and life.
Now Susan and her family had become a part of his nightmares. Dying, leaving; never a happy ending.
Sometimes dreams started better, of his parents, of Susan. But they always ended badly. In death.
Susan's death terrified him the most and he knew he never would have married her, even if he was able. He was too afraid he would lose her. Somehow cause her death.
He couldn't explain his fear to anyone, it felt so foolish.
During the day, they felt so small, so insignificant. Caspian could never understand why he felt so afraid.
The memories, the fears, they still existed- but not the same.
At night, they would reappear, crashing back down on him, loud and haunting.
Suffocating him again.
It was worse away from the castle- much worse. He never had a good night here. Caspian's dreams had never really been calm, but before Miraz had attempted murder, it had been much better.
Now they tormented him.
He wanted to be free of this torture, but he wasn't sure of what to do. On the rare occasion of a nice dream, it wasn't much better.
He always woke up.
Still wanting what he would never have- what the dream had tried to give him. Caspian counted his good dreams with the bad, it wasn't much good if it hurt so much.
But at least he was quiet for those. Lately, he kept waking people up with his crying out and sudden movements.
He felt bad about it, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.
Once he was back at the castle, it would be better. He wouldn't bother anyone. He'd be all alone again. And that was for the best, he was sure.
For the best.
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(Narnia) Broken Pieces -Caspian X- A One Shot Collection
Fanfiction"If only he'd been a little older, then he would have his own memories. But his father and mother were gone, leaving him in a castle, surrounded by people, yet almost entirely alone. Alone without even a memory..." Short one-shots exploring Prince C...
