[Author's Note: Thankyou so so very much for the excellent edit that portray both Caspian and Natasha's relationship and the general feel of the story so perfectly. All credits go to Shadowfax: https://www.quotev.com/ShilohFlash . Go check out her other edits: Covers For Stories: https://www.quotev.com/story/13012324/Covers-For-Stories/14 ]
***

Professor Cornelius was fine.

Except that one time when Natasha found him being cornered by an assassin posed as a flower girl. Her sweet, high pitched voice as she talked with the good professor was almost convincing, had she not wear combat boots under her dress.

At this rate, the Black Widow acted just as her code name was. She caught the woman within her arms in a tight lock, no introduction, no bullshit. The flower lady as it turned out, wasn’t one for pleasantries as well. She pulled her own knife hidden under her waistband, but Natasha was quick to disarm her and instead of going for an instant kill in front of the horrified old professor, she decided to just bump her head to the nearest wall, knocking her out.

After tying the assassin up, Natasha did her best to summarize to the professor of their current predicament as she dragged him to a less conspicuous room just in case Lord Teshran's cronies tried to make sure that the job was carried out.

“Stay here. You’ll be safe. Don’t come out until someone come and get you.”

A nod from the shaken professor and a squeeze to his hand before Natasha closed the door, locked it and on purposely damaged the door handle with force to prevent anyone from entering.

The watchman finally rang the warning sign. Now the rest of that night, everybody who were not who they were had skipped all pretense aside. The halls and the corridors of Cair Paravel were soon turned into a battle ground. Men, women, satyrs, dwarves, centaurs, fauns, wolves, mice warriors, badgers–any creature able to bear arms fought against the army that had penetrated the castle.

By daylight, the whole place had been littered with dead bodies, both from our side and from the Narrowhaven's side.

“Had we not find out, by morning we would have more dead on our side. They are people of no honor,” Caspian murmured somberly, putting his blade into its sheath, “They would attack when we last expect. Preferably when I’m dead.”

Caspian’s cringe didn’t escape Natasha. He held on to his wrist as he kept talking. “You saved many last night, but that doesn’t mean you can escape an interrogation.”

Natasha swallowed at hearing the unusual coldness in Caspian's voice. The dark haired king even refused to meet her eyes.

Right now, he was a king, not her friend.

“I do owe you an explanation, and I will tell you everything,” she promised softly, then a sigh as she eyed Caspian's wrist. “Let me take a look at that.”

Her gentle request was met with silence.

“Please?”

Natasha approached him as if he was a wounded wild animal, testing the waters, but when he didn’t move away, the redhead took his hand carefully and placed it on her left hand.

“It’s dislocated,” Natasha inspected, “Would you like me to set it back to place?”

For the first time that day, Caspian turned his obsidian eyes to her blue ones. Natasha felt something in her stomach churned at seeing how dark and unfeeling his eyes were. Had she wasn’t observant, she would think Caspian was heartless and was a complete emptiness of emotion. But the grieve lurking from behind the void in his eyes told her otherwise.

“Yes please,” Caspian answered, surprising the avenger, “I trust you won’t snap it as bad as when you snap your victim's neck.”

Ouch.

Natasha ignored the sharp comment delivered by the young king. Clearing her throat, she went back to business.

“I won’t. But this will still hurt–“

Crack–

Caspian hissed in pain when Natasha snapped his wrist joint back to its place. This time he glared at Natasha, and she hated to admit that she had never seen such dark complexity in someone’s eyes. Caspian had the darkest shade of black eyes; it was almost vacuum, cold and somewhat unnerving. Natasha thought then that there was a certain dark side of Caspian hidden under that kind, laid back personality; and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be at the receiving end of such darkness.

Whatever it was.

“Your majesty.” The voice that belonged to Drinian broke Caspian's trapping gaze, “We are ready for the emergency council you requested.”

Caspian nodded, looking somber and exhausted, yet above all, absolutely pissed and determined. “Let us go then,” he answered, looking at Natasha. “You’re coming too.”

***

Natasha thought she was there to be interrogated about who she was. But instead, she was there to sort of offer her point of view to the council. That didn’t mean that no one tried to question her; but to her surprise, Caspian silenced them, directing the conversation back towards the ambush that had happened that night. After they heard enough from her, Caspian ordered for her to be sent away from the council. All the while without even bothering to look at her direction.

That was when Natasha knew that she had probably ruined this, and the female avenger had no idea how or if it was possible to win his trust back. Trumpkin and Tavros sent her a sympathetic look as she exited the council, but was unable to do much to help her.

Not that she deserved any of their help.

Natasha found the bench at the courtyard of Caspian's garden and sat there, not minding her ruined dress or the chilly air that blew and seeped into her bones. All she knew that she had failed her mission; soon she'd be denied access to this private royal garden and all Natasha could think about was the need to spend one more time in that beautiful garden.

By now the dryads that she danced with the first time she came here had already come floating nearby, lulling her with their quiet song again. But now even around their lovely presence, Natasha simply couldn’t. Pink petals touched her bare arm as the dryad tried to communicate with her, as if asking her what was wrong. She barely smiled at the beautiful creature.

Natasha had failed her mission; ruined the friendship and trust that she had gained over the year with Caspian. Now he hated her, and while she was used to the notion of people hating her in her past life, it still hurt knowing that history repeated itself, even worlds away.

She had failed Aslan.

***

A couple hours had passed. Though angry and exhausted from the battle, against his advisors and friends' urges for him to rest and recover his strength, Caspian chose to seek solitude in his private garden. But instead of solitude, an unexpected company was what he discovered among the flowers.

He never quite saw her being so forlorn before. That confidence attitude that she often carried with her was somewhat absent as she sat there on the lonely bench in the center of the garden. The gorgeous midnight blue dress that once looked so captivating on her form was now tattered and stained with both blood and dirt at multiple places. Her figure sat elegantly still against the chilly autumn air, and despite the beaten look about her, she was still beautiful and no less charming in his eyes.

“Why the long face?”

Natasha sat up straighter at the familiar voice, startled at hearing the normal tone in his voice when he sat himself next to her. Immediately all emotion was wiped off of her face, her expression neutral as she smiled as if they didn’t just have a very eventful morning.

“Are you here to send me away from this place because you don’t trust me anymore?” Natasha asked with a small smirk, though the hint of melancholy in her eyes didn’t escape Caspian.

“It depends on your next answer,” Caspian inhaled deeply, “Had anything we have this past year been genuine at all? Our friendship?” he questioned, this time looking her into her eyes, “Was any of it real?”

“Yes,” she answered without skipping a beat, frowning at how wrong it was for Caspian to even ask her that question, despite how perfectly normal it was considering his situation.

“Did Aslan sent you?”

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise. The young king next to her rested his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers in front of him. To the avenger’s surprise, Caspian smiled almost as if in mild amusement at her astonishment.

“Please. I might be a young king and you might think that I'm a pampered royal, but I’m not stupid.”

Natasha shook her head. “No. I never think of you that way–“ she cut herself, now starting to feel annoyed that Caspian so easily looked at her with his smile while just hours ago he was treating her like an enemy under his blanket. “What gave me away?”

“The way you eat.”

“What?”

“Bread,” Caspian said, demonstrating it with his left palm open in front of him, “Ham,” with his right hand he put an imaginary ham on top of his left palm and then closed his palms together, “Another bread. Who in the world eats like that?”

Natasha, was halfway frustrated at the seemingly nonsense that Caspian was telling her. “What? That’s sandwich–“

“–Yes, who eats like that?” Caspian raised his voice slightly in insistence, “A sandwich? Why does it even called that? Sand-wich?” wondered Caspian, shaking his head.

Natasha looked at the young king with a bewildered expression as realization dawned on her. “You’ve known for months.”

“Almost everyone known for months. Those who have had breakfast with you, at the least.”

The redhead put her head in her hands. “So my cover was blown months ago, all because Narnia has never known a sandwich before.”

Despite being exhausted, both friends looked at each other and exchanged a somewhat half amused half frustrated smiles.

“And since we’re laying down all our cards in front of us, I’m going to confess that I never agree with that sandwich. What a silly name,” scoffed Caspian, “Too much bread.”

Natasha shook her head in disbelieve. “You said you loved it.”

“Only because you made it for me and that I was trying to be a gentleman and humor you.”

Natasha covered her mouth with her hand as she chuckled to herself. “So you all knew, but never once think of bringing it up to me?”

“I forbid them,” Caspian replied, his smile fading into a deep thought, “You were so hell bent on trying to make us believe that you were just an orphan from a village in Archenland, so I thought you didn’t want us to know your true self or what your purpose might be amongst us. I for one, still believe that Aslan didn’t send someone from another world needlessly.”

“And you know I’m not from this world,” realized Natasha.

“Yes. All from that weird breakfast habit of yours,” he said, a ghost of melancholy smile stretched on his weary face, “The Kings and Queens of Old liked their breakfast that way as well.”

Natasha pondered what Caspian said, her ocean blue eyes drifted across the garden.

“I’m sorry for how I sent you away today,” Caspian began, his dark eyes apologetic, “I was angry. I felt like things slipped past my fingers. Everything went out of my control.”

Natasha’s gaze softened at him. He continued.

“And then there’s the fact that I nearly lost the kingdom that was left for me to care for, and another fact was that I never really knew you as much as I should have.”

Silence befell them, even the quiet songs or giggles that the nymphs usually made was absent. Somewhere behind her mind, Natasha suspected that the creatures were probably eavesdropping their conversation, but she just couldn’t care less.

“Why did he sent you here? Who are you really?” Caspian asked, his deep obsidian eyes troubled.

“Back where I’m from I’m sort of a… a soldier,” Natasha shrugged, putting it in a way that would be milder to understand, “Aslan found me just when I thought that my life has ended. He gave me a choice,” she swallowed at the memory of the infinite darkness that was her demise, “To rest, or to continue on. He gave me a purpose. A mission.”

Caspian studied Natasha's face carefully, his mind reeling as he tried to understand what she was telling him. “Pray, do tell, Natasha. What is your mission?”

“You,” Natasha smiled at him with a certain warmth and fondness in her eyes, “He asked me to protect you.”

Caspian was taken aback at the revelation, but regardless kept his composure. “Aslan knew this day would come. You’ve always been around just to get ready for that.”

“Befriending you seemed like the best way to keep tabs on you,” Natasha shrugged, “ Luckily it was quite an enjoyable process.”

Caspian shook his head and smiled at that. “Well, you’re just lucky. You’re pretty reckless with your mission. What about when I’m out on meetings? What if someone tried to stab me with a quill when you’re not around?” he wondered playfully.

The female assassin smirked as she remembered the days or nights she would spend watching over him from the roof of Cair Paravel. “Who says I wasn’t around?”

Caspian shook his head, his smile a mixture of wonder and relief. The young king took her hand gently and intertwined their fingers together. Bringing her right hand close to his lips, Natasha felt the contrast of his soft lips and the slightly rough stubble of his beard as he kissed her hand. He said nothing else, but the kind smile and the light in his dark eyes spoke to her of his gratefulness.

If it wasn’t for her watching over him and saving his life, it was simply for her just being there for him.

Because a king can have many friends, but only a few that he can entrust his life with.

***

[Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. Been busy with work these past couple weeks. I’ve finally decided to end the action in this chapter rather quickly so I can move on with the story. Yeah or nah? Review ❤️

I love you 3000 🌷]