[au] Narnia and the North

[the_seafarer]

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.

Comments

[sai_delgado]

"Sorry - say sorry," she gasps. It's not right of her to upset the birch-woman so, and well she kens it, but she can't seem to stop.

And then she hears Caspian's worried voice, feels his hands on her shoulders, and a wail rises in her throat as she twists to look at him, her hands pressed to her mouth to try to stifle herself now, her eyes wide and wild and haunted.

[the_seafarer]

He takes in her flushed face and red eyes, the expression in them, like a fleeing animal, and his shoulders fall in an exhale. "Oh, my dear," he murmurs, unhappy. "Come here, Su."

His hands firm on her shoulders, gently coaxing her to curl into the circle of his arms, to cry on his shoulder instead on into the grass of the garden.

[sai_delgado]

She lets herself be drawn, fragile in a way she's tried so hard not to be, shuddering with the force it takes to try to get her tears under control. "I'm sorry, say sorry, I do," she whispers, helpless, her face turned into his shoulder and her breath warm. Susan lets herself cling to his shirt-front, just for a moment, and holds on tight, trying to tell herself this is real, not the other.

"I didn't want - I'd not meant - I'm sorry, Caspian, I'm so sorry--"

[the_seafarer]

"Hush," he murmurs, gentle but firm, and strokes his hand over her hair, along her back. "You've nothing to be sorry for, dear one. Nothing at all."

Relief swells, sharp and painful in his chest, along with a sympathetic sorrow. She's been dreading this for so long; he supposes it simply all came to a head.

[sai_delgado]

"I do," she insists. "I should have been stronger, I just - I'm so tired, Caspian, and it's all so awful, and I don't know how to make it stop." Her voice cracks in her throat and another sob threatens to take her. She bites her tongue until it bleeds, trying to prevent it.

[the_seafarer]

"My darling, you are terrifically strong," he promises. "You needn't try to hide the way you're feeling, or try not to feel it. I'm so sorry you've been shouldering this all alone."

He runs his hand again and again over her hair, her shoulder, her back, doing his best to soothe her. "If you're tired, let me help. Rest on me a while."

[sai_delgado]

"I don't know if thee can," she whispers. She's avoided even thinking about, or tried, the same way she'd tried to avoid being a burden to them all, but ka is cruel and it won't be denied.

"There's no--"

(peace)

"--we knew, all of us did, when we felt the ka-shume, do'ee ken? Before. And mayhap this is just part of it after, I never would have felt it, the first time--"

Since she'd been the one to die, breaking their ka-tet.

"--and if so then I'd best set myself to it and endure, but then fin de año, and now it's Reap, and --"

Susan shakes her head, reaching up with one hand to grab a fistful of her hair and pull on it, confirming its presence still.

"I keep feeling it. I've no idea why, but I do. I could smell the smoke and ash when I woke, Caspian, I couldn't stay for it."

[the_seafarer]

He draws her hair over her shoulder, letting it fall in a smooth wave so she can feel it, see it. "No," he murmurs. "I imagine you couldn't."

But there's nowhere else for her to go, is there? 'Bert and Alain can only open the door to the clearing, and Narnia –

A thought strikes him, flickering, and he frowns at it. "Would it help to go someplace else for a little while? Away from the Bar?"

[sai_delgado]

"Where is there to go?" She sighs and leans against him. "Nay, I'll -- I'll find a way, I will. Just a moment longer, and then I - then I can go back. Say sorry for worrying thee, I do, truly."

She breathes, in and out. "'Bert and Alain are planning something, I wot." Soft and weary. "They think they're being so canny about it, but they're not near as trig as they think they are. Mayhap it'll help."

[the_seafarer]

He only hums a noncommittal sound and gathers her close, letting her rest against him as she needs. "As long as you like," he promises. He has no wish to worry Alain and Cuthbert for long, but nor will he rush her to leave.

As for her comments on their plans, he only smiles a little. "Perhaps. Will you pretend to be surprised, when they spring it on you?"

[sai_delgado]

"Mayhap. It'll depend on what it is," she says, practically. Susan tips her head back against his shoulder and peers up and over at the birch-woman.

"Say sorry, lady-sai," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to bring my troubles to yer garden."

[the_seafarer]

The birch-woman curves gracefully low and brushes Susan's cheek and shoulder with her leaves. You are welcome here, sapling, she murmurs.

Caspian smiles, slight, and drops his mouth to the crown of her head. "When you're ready to go back," he says, soft, "I brought Kiseki."

[sai_delgado]

She holds still under the gentle touch of leaves and Caspian's kiss on her hair, and allows herself to be comforted a moment before renewed distress spikes sharply through her.

"Oh - and I left thee with all the chores this morning --"

[the_seafarer]

"And they were done," he comforts. "Not to worry, Su. It's not such a hard thing to do them myself. But we ought to go back before 'Bert and Alain really get worried."

Reepicheep, too. He half expects the loyal Mouse to have already rallied half the bar to a search for Susan.

[sai_delgado]

"I kennit, say true." Big Pat's daughter has always known not to shirk her duty, whatever form it took. Reluctantly, she sits up, out of the shelter of his arms, and starts to push herself to her feet.

[the_seafarer]

He begins to get up, meaning to help her to her feet, but pauses, horrified. "Su – "

Any exposed bit of skin is scratched and dirty; her clothes are studded with twigs and dried leaves. She looks as though the forest had swallowed her whole with no possibility of ever letting go.

[sai_delgado]

She bites her lip against the shock on his dear face, willing herself not to start crying again.

"I lost my way," she says, softly, so softly. "When - when I were panicked."

[the_seafarer]

He cups her face in his hands a moment and leans forward to gently kiss one of the scratches that runs across her cheek. "All right," he murmurs, although of course nothing is right about this.

Letting her go, he reaches into his pocket to retrieve her gloves, then holds them open one at a time for her to slip her hands inside, protecting her fingers and palms and nails from any more abuse.

[sai_delgado]

Meekly, she complies with his gentle concern, then brushes fruitlessly at her jeans with her newly-gloved hand before giving up.

Susan turns to the birch-woman and drops a small curtsey before shifting to press herself close to Caspian's side. "Thankee, lady-sai," she murmurs. "For yer kindness. I'll not trouble thee so again."

[the_seafarer]

The birch-woman sways and murmurs something softly unintelligible, but sympathetic. Caspian's not wholly sure the tree-sisters quite understand human emotions – they're so rapid and intense and changing – but the sentiment is clear: You are welcome, sapling. No need to hide your pain from us.

"Come along, Su," Caspian says, injecting warmth and confidence into his voice. He takes out her scarf and tucks it warmly around her throat, then reaches for her gloved hand with his. "Kiseki is this way."

[sai_delgado]

She lets him lead her across the garden to where the gelding waits. "There's a dear," she tells Kiseki, who tears up another mouthful of grass as he tosses his head.

[the_seafarer]

"Allow me," Caspian says, genteel, and moves beside the gelding to form his hands into a stirrup for her, meaning to help boost her up.

[sai_delgado]

She accepts his assistance and settles into the saddle with somewhat less than her native grace, but collects Kiseki immediately when he tries to sidle in his surprise. "Hold still, thee silly. Make yer manners proper."

Susan waits for Caspian to mount, then asks, "Is - say sorry, for worrying everyone."

Him first and foremost.

[the_seafarer]

"I'm not," he says, mildly. "Sorry, that is. All it means is there are people who care deeply for you. And I think every one of them will understand."

They'll wish, as he does, that she might have run to them instead of into the woods, but what's done is done. "But you may need to submit to being fussed over, a bit."

[sai_delgado]

She tips her head forward, letting the golden cascade of her hair hide her face, and says nothing. Once she's sure he's settled behind her, Susan clicks her tongue to Kiseki and starts him back down the path to the stables.