the_seafarer | [au] Narnia and the North

[au] Narnia and the North

There's a chill bite to the air, these days. The horses have been growing out their winter coats, and they look shaggy and plump as Caspian turns them out into the paddocks. Behind the stables, in the makeshift woodshop he'd cobbled together, the sleigh from his drawings is starting to come together.

He hopes he'll have it finished by Christmas. With a little luck, and maybe some assistance, he thinks it should be possible. The tack, he's largely left up to Susan's devices, though he'd commission Gimli the dwarf for the various buckles and other metal pieces they'll need.

Once the horses are turned out, he gets to his other morning chores with a will, whistling cheerfully as he does. The stable stays strangely quiet around him. It takes him the better part of an hour to realize the strangeness is because he's become accustomed to Susan's cheerful presence working alongside him, talking or humming or simply working in companionable silence.

Caspian pauses in his task – refilling the grain chest – and looks around. Susan's nowhere to be seen, and when he later wanders through the stables, checking each stall and outside, he can't find her there, either.

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“Aye, and singing,” she confirms, as she raises her head. For a moment she can’t look away from him, so great is the complicated swirl of emotion that storms through her.

“He is, say true, and has been very kind to keep me company all morning.”

"It has been my pleasure," Reepicheep tells her. "I'll happily stay, if my company can in any way assist..."

Caspian comes near to the sofa and kneels to look up at Susan, smiling at her even as his worry tugs inside of him. "You ought to let him teach you how to play chess," he tells her. "He's very good at that, too."

He glances over to the Mouse, still smiling and warm. Susan's desperate not to worry him overmuch, he knows, so he keeps his tone light. "Thank you, Reepicheep. You've proved your honor yet again today. I'll sit with Susan, here, and I'll ask that you go and have a little dinner. You must keep your strength up."

“I never were good at Castles,” she protests, but without force. Susan smiles at Reepicheep, and if it takes effort, well, that’s as may be, but her smile is warm and soft and oh, so fond.

“Thankee-sai,” she tells him.

The Mouse jumps lightly down from the arm of the sofa and comes to kiss her hand, his whiskers tickling delicately. "Be well," he bids her. "I will await your return in the morning."

He bows to his King, then strolls to the door, a jaunty figure with his glossy dark fur, long and curling tail, and the scarlet feather stuck behind his ear. When he's left, Caspian looks back to Susan. "Cuthbert and Alain are getting everything packed."

She nods, and sinks her teeth into her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “And thee spoke with Josiah?”

"Yes," he promises, and reaches for her free hand to curl his fingers comfortingly around it. "He's a discreet man; he asked no questions. And he'll do well by the stables until our return."

As he takes her hand, she gives in to her longing and shifts forward to wrap her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Good.” It’s a little muffled.

He embraces her back, then gently shifts so he can move off his knees and sit with her on the couch, coaxing her to let him hold her. "There's some time yet before we should go," he murmurs. "Rest on me, dear, if you like."

“Thee came straight here.” She plucks a piece of straw from his sleeve as she curls into his side, telling herself she’ll only do so for a moment. “Thee hasn’t even had a chance — thee are so worried, Caspian.”

She's correct, of course, and there's no use denying it. "Aye," he murmurs, keeping his arms around her. He leans back against the corner of the sofa, coaxing her along with him. "But a little worrying never hurt me, Su."

For a moment she wants to weep at the simple fact of his kindness and caring, at Reepicheep's alarm and determination to support her, at the worry she kens 'Bert and Alain and all their friends who know of her trouble are feeling.

(my grief - you are the source of it)

Tears fill the fog-gray eyes, but she shoves them back, giving into anger instead. "It's not fair. Oh, and well I kennit that naught about ka is fair, the greedy cruel thing, but it's not right that thee should be troubled so!"

"You're right," he tells her, letting her flash and flare and scold at the heartless workings of what she calls ka and what he's always known as fate, the thing even the Lion Himself could not and would not avoid. "It isn't fair, and you're right to be furious. You've never done a thing to deserve this pain, and of course I don't think your friends deserve it either."

He presses his mouth against her hair, holding her close. "But if we can't stop it, and we can't fight it, then I'm glad, very glad, that you aren't standing alone to face it."

She shakes her head slightly, sending her hair sliding over his shirt with a soft silken sound.

(oh Dave I'm sorry)

"I have, I wot." Soft and weary, but sure. "But thee haven't, and I'd not be a cause of sorrow to anyone, not again."

"Susan, no."

He shifts to look down into her face, frowning. "You were the target of cruel and vicious jealousy. There's nothing you could have done to deserve any of this."

Caspian curves one hand at her cheek and coaxes her to meet his eyes. "No great joy comes without a little sorrow; they walk hand in hand. And you give me great joy, dear. Even now. Far more than any grief."

She doesn't pull away from his touch, but there's weary resignation in her glance when she meets his gaze.

"I made my choice," she says, softly. "To stand with them, and I'd not change it. But there's blood on my hands for it, Caspian."

(this murdering bitch)

"When they were taken, the three of them taken and locked up the day before Reap - Roland had told me if anything went wrong, I were to take his guns from where they were hidden and go west, to warn his father. It were important, for someone to hear of what Farson was doing, aye, but I couldn't leave them so, not knowing what would happen to them."

Her words are still soft, but stay clear, and her gaze remains steady.

"I took his guns and went to the sheriff's instead, where they were held. Sheemie helped me, both to find a disguise and with throwing big-bangs and cracker-strings, to distract and make a noise."

Her voice shivers a little. "I tried to use the gun as a threat only, to - to make them let them go, but when they - I killed the sheriff, and mayhap that were only what he earned for what he'd done, but I killed Dave Hollis as well, and he were only doing his job. He were a good man, Caspian."

He listens as she speaks, and when she's finished, he shifts, just a little. Keeping one arm around her, he finds her hands with his free one.

(there's blood on my hands)

One by one, and with devoted concentration, he kisses each finger, as if by doing so he might purify the stain she still sees. Last of all, he turns each hand and presses a kiss to each palm. Only when he's finished does he speak, looking at his own fingers curled gently around hers.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "It's a hard thing, to take a life. Especially when you'd have no quarrel with the one you're fighting, if not for only one or two differences in the world, or in timing. I'm sorry you were forced to such a thing."

She puts her other hand over their joined ones, studying the way he's looking down, and leans up to press a gentle kiss to his brow. "Thee'd kennit," she murmurs. "Say sorry, I do."

He closes his eyes as her lips press against his forehead, then leans his head against hers. The worry and fear that's dogged at his heels all day has left him far wearier than usual, and it's comforting to sit here with her in his arms, a reminder that she hasn't given in, and won't.

"If you deserve it, Su, so do I," he murmurs. "And Cuthbert, and Alain. Even Reepicheep. We none of us have clean hands, I expect, but I believe we all acted in the name of right and goodness. And you did, too. I'm sorry for the sheriff's man, but the greater sin was what forced you into that position to begin with."

(I have been true)

"Thee doesn't," she says, just as quiet, and oh, she's very, very sure. "Nor do they. None of thee ever could."

Susan gives a very small shrug. "I did what had to be done, I ken that too. And as I've said, I made my choice, and I would again. I just wish Dave - and sai Olive. That they'd not been caught up in it all."

"I know, dear heart," he murmurs.

The wind she calls ka cares little for the lives it blows apart. "We can mourn them and remember them tonight, too."

"Aye."

Susan raises her hand to cradle his cheek and gives him a gentle, lingering kiss, then pulls back and straightens. "Come on. Let's see to things. We've enough time to pack what thee might need as well, and brush the straw from yer hair."

There's a hint of mischief in her smile - small, but still there. "We don't need to give Kiseki any more ideas."

He chuckles and lowers his head, shaking it, inviting her to brush out what straw and dust there might be. "He'd see me bald as an egg before he was through," Caspian says, amused. "All right, Su, we'll set to it. What do you need from here?"

"Not too much," she says, practically, as she starts combing through his curls with her fingers. "My coat, mayhap a sombrera or hat against the sun, what there is of it. I've need to braid up my hair, too."

She gives him a quick, slightly rueful smile. "I expect Alain and 'Bert have been planning everything else already."

"All right." When she's finished brushing through his hair, he gets up off the sofa and helps her up as well. "I think you've the right of it. So let's get our things together and be ready for them, shall we?"

She puts her arms around him and steps close to embrace him tight for a moment, then looks up and smiles at him, determined that he not need to worry so over her.

"Go on and fetch yer things," she coaxes. "I'll tend to my hair while thee do, and be waiting here for thee when you return."

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