[au] an early snow

[the_seafarer]

It's only mid-autumn, as the Bar-year reckons, but one morning Caspian wakes early to find that the light coming through his window has that particular muted quality to it that only comes from sifting through clouds and a veil of snow.

And snow it is indeed, when he comes outside: it crunches pleasantly beneath his boots as his breath freezes in the air and his cheeks turn pink with the cold. Snow; and still it falls, silent and light.

He heads to the stables with the intention of finishing his chores quickly so he can let the horses out to frolic in it, whistling as he goes.

Comments

[the_seafarer]

"Do you think so?"

In the blink of an eye Caspian's climbed the fence like a squirrel and dropped onto the other side; there, he spreads his arms wide and lets himself fall back into the drifting snow, landing with a soft thud and a laugh.

[sai_delgado]

“Caspian!”

She gasps and dashes to the fence, only to lean on the top rail to hold herself up from laughing so hard.

“Oh, thee mischief. Aren’t thee cold?”

[the_seafarer]

"Not a bit of it."

He laughs and moves his arms and legs as though backstroking through the snow, leaving the impression of an oddly shaped figure as he does, then sits and collects a cold palmful, which he tosses lightly at her. It falls apart before it can hit, only dusting her with a cool mist of flakes.

[sai_delgado]

She folds her arms on the fence-rail and wrinkles her nose at him.

“Snow-shapes, is it?” she asks, nodding to his creation.

[the_seafarer]

"An old and much-beloved tradition," he smiles as he gets up and begins dusting the snow from himself.

[sai_delgado]

She ducks through the fence and comes to help.

“It’s so pretty, the way it covers over everything like a blanket. A soft one.”

[the_seafarer]

"It is soft," he assures her, and a glint of mischief in his eyes is her only warning before he adds: "See for yourself!"

And he takes her hands and falls back again, this time pulling her with him into the powdery white drifts.

[sai_delgado]

Susan squeals, a cry that’s quickly muffled by the puff of snow that flies up as they land and which gets her to shut her mouth and eyes for a second. She bats gently at his shoulder.

“Thee have to be a ka-mai, or whatever it’s called in Narnia,” she scolds, breathless and wryly amused. “Such a mischief as thee are.”

[the_seafarer]

Caspian laughs and looks anything but ashamed of himself. "I?" he says, all exaggerated innocence, and gives her a quick kiss.

[sai_delgado]

“Aye,” she echoes, laughing. Susan kisses him back before she sits up and starts brushing snow off the front of her jacket, her arms.

After a thoughtful second, she scoops a bit up and drops it inside his coat collar.

[the_seafarer]

Caspian yelps and brushes ineffectually at the cold stuff as it melts against his skin, and leaps to his feet to offer her a hand.

"Truce?" he asks, hopefully.

[sai_delgado]

She gives him a look that’s teasing and considering both, then smiles and gives him her hand as well.

“Truce,” she agrees.

[the_seafarer]

He pulls her up and sets her on her feet, then grins at her, boyish and delighted, his cheeks pink with the cold and with laughter.

"We ought to go change and get warm again," he says. "You'll enjoy your hot chocolate today, Su, I should say."

[sai_delgado]

“Thee might as well,” she tells him, practically. “Or tea, as thee so often do. Something warm, oh aye.”

She brushes snow from his coat and smiles at him. “Let’s go in?”

[the_seafarer]

He pats some snow from her shoulders and braid and smiles back.

"Let's. Lead the way, Su."

[sai_delgado]

She reaches for her hand, squeezing it with her gloved fingers, and tugs him with her as she starts back toward the bar.

[the_seafarer]

He laces his fingers with hers and strolls at her side, happy in her company and with the snow and the day and their ride, then gallantly opens the bar door for her, the crackling fire and comfortable couch near it waiting for them. The evening is looking to prove as fine as the day had been.