the_seafarer | (no subject)

(no subject)

The weather's turning colder, and yet the Hope still floats on the dark still lake. A few frosts have come and gone, and Caspian has made a point of covering her sails carefully when he comes in from a voyage about the lake, but the days are still fine more often than not and no ice has yet formed, and so she stays for now.

In fact, he's just been out on the water himself; which explains the pinkness of his cheeks and the windblown, hay-gold hair that sticks up every which way from his head, whipped by the cold breezes moving across the water. And now he is standing on the shore, winding up a faded rope slowly while he looks in the direction of the silent Black Pearl.

The floating dock is gone; Jack's pulled it away.

It's a little worrisome.

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"So?"

She feels this is a valid argument.

"There are trees! And--and bushes and things, and so what? We're married. Bet Lilly wouldn't object," she mutters and doesn't care if she's being petty.

She still wants him, dammit, and he is over there and not over here where he very obviously should be.

She says Lilly again and he looks stricken; there's one last incredulous look before he holds up his hands, palms out, and shakes his head.

"There aren't enough trees," he mutters, feeling a little annoyed himself.

"You don't like me," she mutters and glares at the lake.

"There could be. You just don't want there to be." That makes total sense.

"I...what?"

This conversation is growing steadily more bizarre; he glances around as if wondering whether or not he's about to find that a pit has opened up behind him.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I like you."

"You're not acting like it!" she cries and then kicks at the ground.

He stares at her as though she is speaking another language.

"You are the one talking about kissing Lilly Kane," he points out. "It's a bit hard for me to get past."

"But I didn't say I would, she just offered, but she's Lilly. Though I bloody well should, apparently," she mutters, "if I want a decent snog without interruptions."

This conversation is well past the realm of bizarre and gone deep into the near-impossible, and Caspian feels as though he's drowning. It's as though he's stepping into quicksand.

"Are you feeling quite all right?" he asks, cautiously.

"Not as well as I'd feel if you'd bloody well have just let me kiss you," she mutters and won't look at him.

"But--

"But you weren't just kissing."

"And I would have done more if you hadn't been so stupid," she shoots back, frustrated and kicking the ground again.

She just really likes him and loves him and she just wants him to kiss her and he won't and it's horrid.

"Lu," he starts, lamely. "I couldn't let you--not here."

"Fine. Then don't." She's talking to the ground more than him.

"I don't need you to."

"Well...but..."

At a total loss, he spreads his hands uselessly.

"I'm sorry?"

"You should be," she mutters.

"If you don't want to spend time with me, I'll just find someone who does."

"Lucy!"

He's almost as taken-aback by this as he had been by her declaration that she would kiss Lilly Kane.

"You know that isn't true."

Well, to be fair, there were more than a few conditions put on that declaration.

"Do not," she mutters. "You won't kiss me."

"I--I--" he starts, and stops, pushing a hand through his hair distractedly.

"What on earth does that have to do with anything? Of course I kissed you, I love you."

"Stopped me," she counters sulkily.

"Well, of course. It's cold out and people might come by and honestly, Lu, this just isn't really a very good place for..." He waves a hand vaguely.

"You wouldn't," she says, firmly, "have noticed the cold. And do you see anyone around? I don't!"

"That doesn't mean that there might not be," he points out. "Or there might be someone on the Pearl."

She stares at him like he's lost his mind and gestures, seeming to lack words, at the ship on the lake.

"Pirates!" is her answer, which in Lucy speak, at the moment, means, "For God's sake, it's not like it's going to shock them, I kissed the bloody captain at our wedding, and why aren't you shagging me, again?!"

He stares at her, too shocked even to be angry or to argue with her.

"What on earth is going on?"

"You're being an bloody old stick in the mud," she snaps, "that's what," and she's glaring at the lake again.