[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]

Color tints her cheek. "I liked him well, say true." Bashfulness is quickly overcome by spirit, though, as she adds, "But I'd not like yer uncle at all, never in life."

[the_seafarer]

Caspian can't help but laugh as she declares how she'd dislike Miraz. "No, I don't suppose you would," he chuckles. "He wasn't a very likable man. But I doubt we'll see him here."

Or anywhere. He has no idea where Miraz may have gone after the duel, but it certainly wasn't to Aslan's Country.

[sai_delgado]

His laughter is balm to her heart, and Susan smiles up at him. "Then we've no reason to worry over him, aye?"

Not today, any road.

[the_seafarer]

"None at all," he tells her, and he truly believes it. Miraz was a long, long time ago, and nothing that happened then is anything he cares to think about now.

As they climb, the spiral of the stairs tightens and tightens. There are no rooms or halls coming off it now, only windows which look out over the courtyards or towards the sea.

[sai_delgado]

She'd seen the towers from below as they approached the gleaming castle, but hadn't thought how that might affect them as they climbed. Susan tries to look out every window at once as they wind higher and higher.

"However did they build such a place?"

[the_seafarer]

"It was rebuilt with a great deal of ingenuity and hard work," he tells her. "How it was built in the beginning, I don't know. Perhaps it's always been here."

The stairway finally gives out to a door. He opens it and draws her with him out into brilliant sunlight and a rushing, salt-laced breezed. Around them, the sky is as drowning deep as the sea, clear blue and brilliant.

[sai_delgado]

Susan gasps with wonder as she looks around. The brilliant white of Cair Paravel itself doesn't interfere with her ability to see as far and as clear as ever she's seen anything, from the forests and distant mountains to the sunlight sparkle off the waves.

Carefully, but without fear, she moves to the edge of the tower, looking up and out.

[the_seafarer]

Above them, a pennant flaps merrily in the wind, the golden lion on a rippling scarlet background. Caspian comes with her, stopping a step behind her to watch as she looks about. The air is so clear that they can see for miles further than usual, and he points to what he can. "Yonder is the Western Wood," he tells her. "And the Great River. That way, there, is Beaversdam. And to the north, a wild land, full of giants."

[sai_delgado]

"Like sai Wimbleweather?" Susan pulls her braid forward over her shoulder and starts unwrapping the leather cord at the end of it. "It's all so beautiful, Caspian, it's hard to believe it's real."

[the_seafarer]

"Nay," he tells her. "These were not like our Narnian giants. There was a race called the Ettins, in Ettinsmoor. Much larger, very stupid, and terribly violent. They had either two heads or four arms, but not both. The giants of the Great Northern Plain beyond were much more intelligent, but they too were vicious and cruel."

He watches as she undoes the cord holding her braid, and steps forward, offering to gently undo the plait for her. "And yet it is, Su. All of it. More real than real."

[sai_delgado]

"Oh - mutie giants?" she asks. "They sound like it."

Her fingers still on her braid, and she smiles up at him, turning it over to his touch. "It's been a long, long time since I've felt the wind off the sea like this," she explains. "I may end up all a-tangled, but it'll be worth it, say true. Because it's as thee say - real as rain."

[the_seafarer]

"I understand."

He does, down to his core. The wind is tugging at his own hair, at his clothing, calling to him. Above, he can see a wheeling seabird, and the sight lifts his heart.

Carefully, he combs his fingers through Susan's hair, letting it fly free as he does. There's a twinkle of humor in his eyes as he goes on. "I suppose Reep would be willing to comb it out again, anyhow."

[sai_delgado]

She beams up at him as he separates out the golden locks and as the wind starts to whip her hair into a cloud.

"He were ever so dear." Fondness clear in her tone and her look. "I kennit, that I worried ye both, but it were sweet of him to help so."

[the_seafarer]

He smiles back down at her, happy to see she's not lost in self-recrimination and sorrow the way she had been before. "He's a sweet fellow," Caspian agrees, enjoying the feeling of her silken hair fluttering against his fingers.

"You ought to have seen him with Eustace when the poor lad was a dragon. Reep talked him through it when none of the rest of us could."

[sai_delgado]

She tips her head a little, giving him more freedom to play with her hair if he wants.

"Eustace must have been so glad. I'd like to do something nice for him, Caspian, do'ee have any thoughts on what he'd like?"

[the_seafarer]

"I suppose I could let him duel the gunslingers," he teases. "He'd probably like that."

[sai_delgado]

"Oh, thee mischief." Susan narrows her eyes at him. "I kennit mayhap 'Bert's teasing and ka-mai ways aren't best to his liking, but he gets on well with Alain, aye?"

[the_seafarer]

"Hmm," he muses, exaggeratedly pondering as he twines locks of her hair around his fingers. "I suppose you're right. We shall have to think of something else."

[sai_delgado]

She wrinkles her nose at him. "I've an idea or two, so mayhap I'd best see to it that way instead."

More seriously, she adds, "Especially as I'm not sure how Susannah'd react to the thought of such a duel. She's -- well. Detta could go either way, I wot."

[the_seafarer]

"Not to worry," he promises. "Reep likes them both far too much to do anything but spar with them for fun."

His smile grows as he looks down at her cutely wrinkled nose. "And what sort of ideas are those, Su? Unless you mean to keep them to yourself."

[sai_delgado]

"I thought mayhap I'd braid a belt for his new rapier," she tells him. "Mayhap with a bit of cord-decoration. Sai Gimli focuses more on the metalwork betimes than the leather. Do'ee think he'd like it?"

[the_seafarer]

Her sweetness and generosity strikes him to the core, and he lifts a hand to curve against her face. "I think he'd adore it," he promises. "It's a lovely idea."

[sai_delgado]

"Then I'll do it." Susan tips her head into his hand and beams at him, pleased. She reaches to catch his other hand as her hair flies around them both, and coaxes, "Come show me more of what thee'd want me to see from here?"

Even as she says it, she doesn't move away from him.

[the_seafarer]

He curls his fingers around hers as her hair whips into a golden mist around them. "There's only one other thing I can think of," he says, and steps back without dropping her hand, drawing her with him to the side of the tower that looks out over the sea and shore. "There."

There is a pier stretching out from beach and castle, at the end of which floats a beautifully designed ship. Her hull is green, the rolled sails on her yardarms are a lush purple, and a proud gilt dragon rears up from her prow, a coiling tail curling from the stern. "There she sits," he murmurs, pride and longing and wistfulness and joy all mixed together in his voice, in his face. "The Dawn Treader."

[sai_delgado]

"Oh, Caspian." Susan stares at the ship floating so proudly at rest on the gentle waves. "Oh, she's beautiful."