[ AU ] to break a curse

[the_seafarer]

Reap is past, and Susan is looking brighter and happier by the day, and now true winter is beginning to settle over this strange bar at the end of the universe. Caspian hauls the Hope up into the stables to be wintered and works long hours at the sleigh he'd designed, losing himself in the simple pleasures of working with the wood, sanding and carving in turn.

It's after one such day spent in labor that he comes to the bar proper, freshly showered and comfortably attired in a loose linen shirt and breeches, to join Susan by her spot at the fireside. He's chatting amiably with her about the horses, about how Corella is coming with her harness-training, and has just begun pouring her a glass of wine with the door opens and Caspian freezes. In the next moment, the glass overflows with the rich red liquid, but he doesn't notice; his eyes are locked on the tall, fair young man who has come in, dressed all in black.

Even to those who have never seen him, there may be something familiarly of Caspian about his face... but Susan has seen him, and she'll know as soon as she looks that Rilian, Prince of Narnia and Caspian's son, has returned.

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[sai_delgado]

“Yer armor-shirt helped some too, I wot,” she says, examining the sound with care. “It’s not as deep as it might have been. I’d feel better if Simon saw to it, or one of the healers, but that can wait till the morrow an’ye’d have it so.”

Susan looks up at him. “I could stitch it, but I’ve not a healer’s skill. Mayhap a good bandaging would be best for tonight.”

[the_seafarer]

"Aye. But after that bath, I think." He smiles, slight.

"I wouldn't want you to have to re-do all your hard work."

[sai_delgado]

Her answering smile is teasing. “Thee just don’t want to sit still for it twice. But aye, that’s for the best.”

She runs her fingers lightly over his bruises and makes a soft ‘tsk’ sound. “While thee are soaking, I’ll make some poultices. Bruisebane, comfrey and milk-thistle’ll do the trick.”

[the_seafarer]

He catches her hand in his fingers and squeezes it, smiling soft and weary. "You're too good to me," he murmurs. "Sweet Susan. And I know I dare not argue with your orders. I'll have that bath, then."

Letting go of her hand, he pushes himself carefully up and out of the chair. "I'll not be long."

[sai_delgado]

“My very dear,” she says, soft.

“Take all the time thee need.” Thinking to try to give him a reason to, she adds, “If thee are still in when the poultices are ready, I’ll come and wash yer back.”

[the_seafarer]

He chuckles, very softly. "That sounds like as good an incentive to stay in the bath as I've ever heard," he says, with a shadow of his usual spirit. "Alright, perhaps I'll linger."

Not that he needs much of an excuse, once he's lowered himself into the steaming, scented water. It feels perfectly wonderful on his sore body, and he allows himself to put his head back, eyes closed, and tries his best not to think.

[sai_delgado]

She puts his shirt in the hamper and frowns over the leather before wiping it down with a cloth and promising herself to treat it with saddle soap on the morrow. Susan stacks it neatly in a corner then turns her attention to making the poultices.

It takes some minutes, but not all that many, for she’d had a good idea of what she’d need when she’d made the request of the bar, say true. Susan lays them out ready and makes her way into the bath, tapping quietly at the door as she enters so as not to startle him.

[the_seafarer]

He opens his eyes at the tap, at the soft sound of the door opening. "That was quick."

Or had he started to doze off here in the bath? He feels tired right down to his bones.

[sai_delgado]

“Mayhap a little.” She’d seen no reason to delay, after all. Susan freshens the water in her pitcher at the sink and comes to sit on the side of the bath. Gently, she cups a hand over the nape of his neck.

“Tip yer head back, and I’ll wash yer hair.”

[the_seafarer]

He can wash his own hair, but she wants to take care of him and comfort him, and he knows the feeling, so he does as she says, tipping his head back into her gentle touch and closing his eyes.

[sai_delgado]

She wets his hair, careful to keep the water from running over his face, watching as his golden curls turn a darker color.

Susan sets the pitcher aside and begins to work shampoo into his hair, using the tips of her fingers to make gentle circles against his scalp.

[the_seafarer]

He makes a small sound as her fingers rub against his scalp, soothing the ache in his head and setting nerve endings alight. "You spoil me," he murmurs, then smiles gently at her.

"But I have to admit, it feels wonderful."

[sai_delgado]

"Not a bit more than thee deserve," she teases, light. "Besides, I like playing with yer hair."

She's very thorough with her attentions, making her way across his head to massage his temples and then back again, taking care not to miss a single spot.

[the_seafarer]

"So that's where Kiseki gets it from," he murmurs, keeping his eyes closed as she soaps his hair and scalp, losing himself willingly to her gentle ministrations. "I ought to have known."

[sai_delgado]

Susan laughs. “I’m washing yer hair, not trying to eat it!”

[the_seafarer]

"Still," he insists, allowing himself to be amused, to take this moment with her, just her.

Everything else can wait, can't it?

[sai_delgado]

Her laughter is a soft ripple, as gentle as the stream of water she pours over his hair to rinse it. Once it’s free of soap, Susan presses a kiss to the dark gold locks. “There,” she says, amused. “If thee’d have it so.”

[the_seafarer]

He tips his head back at the soft press of her lips to his wet curls, and gently catches her mouth in a kiss before she leans back. "Dear one," he murmurs. "You've put up with a great deal to be with me, I'm afraid."

The knowledge of his past wife, of his son, of the curse. She's weathered them all, smiling still, and he has no words for the gratitude he feels for it, for her.

[sai_delgado]

She curves her fingers to his cheek, shaping his face, and leans down to kiss him again. “I don’t see it that way,” she murmurs, soft but certain.

Mayhap it’s true, but if so he’s faced no less trouble for having her in the life they’ve found here. “Don’t ever think I do. Thee are a joy to me.”

[the_seafarer]

"And thee to me," he says, soft. His fingers are wet, but he reaches to touch her face, her hair, anyway, his eyes tracing her sweet, familiar features. "We're both due some joy, I think. I'm so very happy to have found it with you, my darling."

[sai_delgado]

"Thee very dear." She tips her head into his touch, unconcerned about such trivial things as water.

She'd never expected this, not any of this, from the waystation itself to the reunions and new connections she's found here, much less someone like him, and oh, but sometimes it frightens her with knowing just how easily it could all be snatched away again - but that's as it will be or won't, and she'll fight to hold to what they all have, say true.

"Thee has the right of it, I wot."

[the_seafarer]

He drifts his thumb over her cheek, thanking Aslan for this second chance, for this new love. For everything he's received here, that he could never have imagined. "Time to finish up this bath, I think," he murmurs. "And for us both to get a little rest."

[sai_delgado]

"Bath, then poultices and bandages," she insists. "But then rest, aye. It's been a long, hard day for thee."

[the_seafarer]

"Not just me," he points out, but nods against her touch before leaning forward with a small wince to let the hot water out of the tub. He stands, dripping, and steps out, grabbing a towel as he does.

[sai_delgado]

She twists her hair back in a loose, practical knot at the back of her neck while he dries off, then goes out to retrieve a loose, comfortable change of clothes for him, one that'll work well and be soft over his wounds.

"Back in the chair as before, an'ye would," she asks.