[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

[the_seafarer]

"Not in the least," Drinian confirms.

"But of course he thought we'd come in strength, for he never would have imagined anyone would attempt to re-take the Lone Islands with one ship and fewer than fifty men.

"So we came to his palace, and pushed through the excuses from his sniveling porter. A few guards came upon us, but the King defused the situation by calling for them to be given wine and a holiday, before presenting themselves to him again on the morrow. And finally, we came to where the Governor sat at his desk, in a chair one might almost call a throne. Bern and I flung the table over and plucked him from the chair, so His Majesty might sit there, and so he did, cool as you like. He bade Gumpas explain the lack of tribute and the support for the slave trade, then summarily relieved him of duty and set Lord Bern in his place, as Duke of the Lone Islands."

[sai_delgado]

She can just imagine it, can see Caspian confident and stern and strong before them all as King with Drinian there beside him. "It were wise and good of him to set another there so, and to secure the people's protection and care," she observes. "But I can't say I'm surprised to hear it, or that ye'd helped so. He's spoken fondly of ye before."

[the_seafarer]

"A better Lord and friend I could not have hoped for," Drinian tells her.

"Afterwards, of course, we went to the slave-auction, where His Majesty closed the markets for good and we were reunited with our friends. And slavery never did find another hold in Narnia, thank the Lion, while he was King."

[sai_delgado]

"And they were all right? Not harmed? For I'd not wish to bring up anything they'd rather not remember," Susan tells him, concern clear in her glance.

"And I can't imagine it would ever, he'd never have stood for it, nor any of those dear to him either."

[the_seafarer]

"They were," Drinian assures her, before surprise filters into his clear blue eyes.

"You – you speak to them? King Edmund, Queen Lucy? I know His Majesty mentioned Reepicheep, but – "

[sai_delgado]

“Betimes, aye,” she says, before realization strikes.

“The - the place where I met them, all of them, it’s a waystation between worlds, do’ee ken? Like the Wood Between the Worlds, that C— that His Majesty told me of once. I’ve not met the Queen Susan, but the others, aye, including King - High King Peter,” she corrects herself, quickly.

[the_seafarer]

Drinian leans against the railing, his grip on one of the lines, and shakes his head, amazed. "I wager reaching such a place is a tale all its own," he says. "And you've – "

His jaw works, but he pushes forward. "You said – the Prince. Rilian."

The question is in his eyes and his voice, but he hardly dares ask it aloud.

[sai_delgado]

Her heart sinks within her like a stone, for it's clear as the sky above them here in this place what he wants to know.

Ever honest was Susan Delgado, in all the ways that mattered, and better far it be her than Caspian, if it's to be told, she thinks. Her da' had always told her there were three ways of going about a thing - to do it, to leave it, or to dissemble and avoid, and oh, she kens well the scorn he'd held for those who'd take that third path. And so, with a silent prayer to her own father's memory, she takes her courage into her hands and meets Drinian's gaze.

"I've seen him there, aye," she says, softly. "Once, but not to speak to. But he has the look of his father, say true."

[the_seafarer]

The struggle to ask plays out over Drinian's honest, sun-brown face. "He always had," he murmurs. "And that of his mother, too."

His father's steady temperament and golden curls, his mother's height and grace and unearthly beauty. Drinian watches her a moment, visibly hauling back on his desire to know more about the Prince he'd lost so long ago. "Have you met her, as well? The Queen?"

[sai_delgado]

"Ye were close," she says, as she had before. "I've - I ken he were lost, for ten long years. Say sorry, I do, but I don't have the knowing of all of it to share with ye. But he were restored in the end, that I can promise ye - he came home, and were reunited with his father there."

She draws a careful breath, and shakes her head in answer to his next question. "The lady of the stars." Soft, so soft, yet clear. "Nay, I've not. For all there's many who visit there, she's not been one that I've seen."

[the_seafarer]

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. "If you do," he begins, and stops, shakes his head.

"I see how His Majesty looks at you, Susan, Daughter of Eve. And my heart is glad for his happiness, after so much sorrow. I pray you will not take offense – it's only that I swore allegiance to the Queen, just as I did to him."

[sai_delgado]

She turns pale as salt, and puts out one hand to steady herself against the railing, but he's every right to say it and not wrong to do so.

(gilly-girl)

Wind whips at her golden hair, tossing it around her as she nods to him, and oh, but her fog-gray glance is clear as it meets his.

"Ye've given no offense, but only said true out of love for yer friend and his wife, and I'll not ever hold that against ye. And I'll cry yer pardon, if I've brought aught of harm or distress by my being here as I am - to ye, to others dear to him, or to the lady queen."

She's proud that her voice doesn't tremble.

"I'd never wish to do so, nor to cause him hurt of any sort. He's one of the most honorable and best men I've ever known in all my days and after, ye've my word on that, if ye'll take it."

[the_seafarer]

"The only distress I feel is at harming your feelings, miss – Susan," the older man says, in swift response to the way she pales and sways. "Please pardon an old sailor for speaking his mind without thinking. Truly, I could never think ill of my friend and king, nor of any he cares for. And it's been long years since the Queen was lost."

He grimaces, conscious of his failings of speech. "Forgive me. I spoke out of turn."

[sai_delgado]

"There's naught to forgive," she replies, swiftly. Susan keeps herself braced, but reaches out her other hand to him to try to reassure. "Ye've every right to want to protect the ones ye care for."

[the_seafarer]

He takes her hand and squeezes it gently in his. "You're right, you know," he tells her. "He is the most honorable and best man I have ever had the privilege to call 'friend.' What I meant to say – what I ought to have said – "

His smile is a little wry, but warm all the same. "If you meet the Queen... I think you'll like her. And she you."

[sai_delgado]

"I'd hope she would." She'd hope so indeed, although she's far less certain of it than Drinian seems to be, especially now. "I've only ever heard well of her."

[the_seafarer]

"She was as wise as she was kind, and as kind as she was beautiful," Drinian agrees. "A daughter of the stars, as you know. And much beloved by all Narnia."

He squeezes her fingers once more, then lets her hand go. "I say this not to hurt you, Daughter of Eve, only to... well, it's hard to explain. You'll understand when you see her, I think. For my part, I saw my friend choose to give his affections wisely and well once, and I can see he has done so again now, with you. It gladdens my heart, truly. I wish you joy of one another."

[sai_delgado]

(give ye joy)

“Thankee-sai,” Susan says, soft but clear. She couldn’t ever imagine comparing herself to such a queen, but she can tell that’s not what Drinian’s trying to say, and it’s strangely reassuring for all that she feels more fragile now, mayhap, than before.

“I’d only ever wish—-“

(bird and bear and hare and fish)

“—-for him to be happy.”

[the_seafarer]

"That is my wish, also."

He gives her a slightly rueful look. "I hope I've not ruined your enjoyment of the Treader."

[sai_delgado]

“Ye haven’t,” Susan tells him, and as she does her smile curves her lips once more and grows. “Ye couldn’t, I wot. Just look—-“

She crosses the small space to stand at his side, and waves down at the ship below.

“She’s wonderful, and I’d never thought to have the chance to see her. Ye must be so proud of her!”

[the_seafarer]

"That I am, lady, that I am."

He clasps his hands at the small of his back and gazes down on the ship with pride. "And I am very glad to have the chance to show her to you. As is His Majesty, I wager."

[sai_delgado]

“Oh, he were,” she agrees. “Ye kennit, how much he loves this ship and the sea beside.”

Susan peers down again, taking in every detail she can. “I may have grown up by the water, but I don’t ken ships the way the two of ye do - it were horses, for me - but I ken enough to see she’s trim and well-crafted.”

[the_seafarer]

"Would that you could see her under sail," he says, regretfully. "But that would require a crew greater than two. One day, perhaps."

[sai_delgado]

“Mayhap.” Susan throws him a sparkling smile. “For if ye can’t find new waters to sail in Aslan’s Country, I can’t think where ye would. How many sailors does it take to crew her?”

[the_seafarer]

Drinian considers the question thoughtfully. "I should say no fewer than six, to take her out safely. More, of course, if we'd need to row."