[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]

"Take your time."

He steps over to the window, looking out over the Milliways grounds as he waits for her, thinking over all they might need. Blankets, food and water – something warm to drink. The Pevensies had those marvelous flasks that could keep coffee and tea hot for hours, didn't they?

[sai_delgado]

As she'd promised, it doesn't take her long. Susan comes back out of the bathroom with her hair brushed to a shine and wearing a clean pair of jeans and her boots as usual, but with a deep navy-blue shirt layered under an oversized flannel shirt with blues and grays woven amid the cream of it.

She's rolling up a sleeve as she crosses over to join him by the window. "What are thee looking at?"

[the_seafarer]

"Nothing of particular note."

He turns to her and smiles, reaching to fold her collar a little more smoothly. "Now, how about that breakfast?"

[sai_delgado]

"A bit of coffee'd be welcome, any road." She's practical enough to know that she'll need the awareness the bitter stuff brings. "As for the rest, whatever thee'll have will serve me well enough."

Susan glances around the room, checking to make sure all's as it should be, and gives him a nod. "Let's go."

[the_seafarer]

The Bar's been decorated, he sees, as they leave the staff hall and step into the main room. He's not familiar with all of the things he sees – there are quite a lot of large orange gourds – but it's enough for him to remember that this is a Harvest festival.

[sai_delgado]

At Caspian's side, Susan Delgado goes very still.

(life to the crop)

Her glance travels over the arrangements of colorful ears of corn in their shucks and stalks, taking in the melons and gourds and hay-bales stacked, the few cheerful stuffy-guys in farmers' clothing with straw at their wrists and smiles painted on their faces.

(death to you)

After a moment that feels far, far too long, she makes herself draw a harsh, shuddering breath. She lets it out in turn like a sigh as she straightens her shoulders.

"If ever I were doubting before, I'd no longer," she says, a little dryly. "It's Reaping-Day today for certain."

(come, Reap)

[the_seafarer]

"Aye." He sounds chagrined. Caspian turns to her, searching her face, keeping his hand warm and steady in hers.

"Shall we take our breakfast at the stable, instead of here in the bar?"

[sai_delgado]

"Mayhap that's best." She sounds just as rueful as he. "I'd not want to worry anyone, and not all ken why I'd be a bit strained."

[the_seafarer]

He nods agreement, and laces their fingers together. "I expect we both only want something light, anyway."

Fortunately, it's still early yet, and there aren't many patrons out and about just yet. Caspian gives the bowls of brightly wrapped sweets on the bartop a curious glance as they come to it, but otherwise ignores the decorations. "Good morning," he tells the bar, politely. "May we have a little breakfast to take out to the stables? Some coffee and tea and..."

He looks over at Susan, trying to think of what she might be able to stomach. "Perhaps some porridge?"

[sai_delgado]

Her gut twists within her and bile rises in the back of her throat. She can hear the squelchy sound of Aunt Cord's spoon plopping into her favored breakfast much as plain as anything, and sends up a silent prayer to her father that when this horrid day is past mayhap not every little thing'll be edged enough to cut at her mind so.

Susan shakes her head, but manages a smile for him. "Not unless thee'd insist," she says, and oh, unlike with her aunt, if he does she'll choke it down somehow. "I'd do better with an orange or an apple, maybe a handful of nuts."

[the_seafarer]

He studies her, the wan cast to her smile, and nods. "Some fruit and nuts, then," he requests of Bar. "And a little cheese." For him, if not for her. The fruit isn't likely to keep him full through the morning.

In response, Bar offers a small basket into which is tucked several apples and oranges, a few packets of nuts, and the cheese he'd requested, along with one of those heat-saving flasks full of coffee and another of tea.

Caspian tucks both into the basket and hefts it. "Many thanks, Lady Bar."

[sai_delgado]

Susan sets a gentle hand on the bar-top in appreciation. "Aye, thankee-sai, Lady, it's that kind of ye to pack it for us so."

She reaches for the basket as if to take it from him, a flicker of laughter in her eyes. "I can carry it, if thee'd manage doors and the like."

[the_seafarer]

"As you will," he says, agreeably, and relinquishes the basket before walking with her to the door that will take them first outside, then to the stable.

For the front door, he offers no glance; its song will be loud enough no matter where they are, he expects.

[sai_delgado]

She's careful to not look around too much as they go; now isn't the time to let her mind wander, say true.

(come rest come)

(come, Reap)

Susan draws a deep breath of the crisp air as they step outside, and looks up at the sky. No moon yet, not this early, and she's grateful for it.

[the_seafarer]

It's brisk but not overly cold, and he thinks the sun will warm the day further still. He'll have to remember Susan's coat, though, for the night; her coat and gloves and scarf, all. Even in the mellowness of the garden, it may get chilly.

The stables, however, are as snug and cozy as could be, when he opens the door and guides her inside, and Susan's many charges give her a few sleepy greetings to see her so early.

[sai_delgado]

"There now, be easy," she murmurs. Susan carries the basket over to the work-table and sets it there, then opens it up and reaches for the tea to pour Caspian a cup before anything else. "There's naught to trouble ye."

[the_seafarer]

The horses make soft sounds as they shift in their comfortable, straw-padded stalls, and Caspian receives his tea with a murmured word of thanks. It's hot and a little sweet, just as he likes it, and as he takes the first sip, he offers up a hope to the Lion that it'll help him to get through first this day, then this night.

He reaches in to pull out one of the apples and polishes it on his sleeve before offering it to her.

[sai_delgado]

"Thankee-sai." Susan takes it with both hands and looks down, turning it over in her fingers.

"When did 'Bert and Alain tell thee they'd come?"

[the_seafarer]

"Morning," he tells her. "I can't recall if they said 'first thing' or nay, but I'd expect them sooner rather than later, I think."

He takes an apple of his own and cleans it off, then bites into it.

[sai_delgado]

"I would, too." Susan sighs and tucks her apple in a pocket long enough to pour herself a cup of coffee, then takes both to sit on a hay-bale and begin her breakfast. "We've not long to wait, then, most likely."

[the_seafarer]

He comes to sit near her and sips again at his tea, then nods. "Aye."

If anything, he's almost surprised the two gunslingers aren't here already, lurking about in wait.

[sai_delgado]

She nods, then shifts a little closer to lean her head against his shoulder. Talking seems like too much effort.

[the_seafarer]

Caspian sets one arm around her – with a breakfast like this, he really only needs one hand. He has some fruit and cheese and several more cups of tea, coaxing her gently as he eats to have a little more breakfast of her own.

[sai_delgado]

He's kind and caring and she'd not see him worried, say true, so Susan finishes the apple and an orange with it, then nibbles on a few of the pecans they'd been given while she finishes a second cup of the coffee, which is hot and strong enough to keep her moving for a week on any normal day.

Still, the waiting's difficult. She finds herself drifting, listening for the sound of whispers and feeling the pull of the front door like a dragging ache at her bones.

But when the sound of boot-steps approaches, she jerks her head up, tension thrumming through her as she stares at the stable-door.

[the_seafarer]

For a moment, he wishes he'd brought his blade – but there's nothing he can protect her from with such a thing, not for this. Still, when she tenses, he does, also, his hand falling in a thoughtless reflex to where he'd have his dagger on his belt if he'd dressed for battle today.

But it's only Alain and Cuthbert, as expected, and he relaxes a little to see them. "Good morning," he offers, though it's more a pleasantry than anything else. Regardless of the weather, there's not much good about this day, not for any of them.