He makes a small sound and for a moment only holds her, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped securely about her slender frame. She still smells of fresh grass and saltwater and of the flowers of Aslan's Country – and of herself, most of all, warm and wonderful.

Caspian lifts his head to kiss her once more and lets her go only long enough to shuck off his trousers and underthings, shoving them away until he's long and lean and bare beneath her, twining her legs with his own.