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Debut
He closed his eyes and listens to the rushing of impossible waters. He could not remember his father; he could not even picture his face. The idea that he could be there, just out of reach, was maddening. For a moment, he teetered on the brink, toes of his boots digging into the sand, but then he realised: he knew that he could never justify leaving everything that he had been given behind to chase after a dream. To make himself feel better. Narnia deserved better from her king.
And, so, trailing his fingers through the sweet water, Caspian took a breath and turned away from the possibility.
What Narnia needed, more than anything, was a better King.
He listened without listening, too aware of the painful beating of his heart. So many goodbyes. But he had grown used to missing them, in the years that had gone by. He might not have been Narnian, not truly, but, still, he had come to understand - the world was as Aslan willed it. So be it.
And yet, they were the closest thing that he had to family, and those partings were always hardest, in the end.
He held onto Edmund for a long time.
And then he let him go.
He stood at Aslan's side as the went through the tunnel, knowing that they were journeying not to Aslan's country as Reepicheep had, but further. He set himself to remembering their details, commiting them to memory, because he knew that he would never see them again. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes. Caspian turned away, about to say something to Aslan, to try and find some comfort...
And found himself alone on a narrow spar of sand, swordless, shipless, friendless and entirely too startled to shed a tear.
Wondering, he walked back towards the ocean. It wasn’t so surprising that he couldn’t see the Dawn Treader from here; they’d rowed through the floating lillies, after all, each stroke of the oar through up perfume with the splash. But the long boat was gone, too. There weren’t even footprints in the sand to find. For a brief, foolish moment he thought that, somehow, he’d ended up in Aslan’s country after all.
An idea struck him and he crouched, reaching down to trail his fingers in the water.
Salt. Just salt.
“How very strange,” he murmured.
And, so, trailing his fingers through the sweet water, Caspian took a breath and turned away from the possibility.
What Narnia needed, more than anything, was a better King.
He listened without listening, too aware of the painful beating of his heart. So many goodbyes. But he had grown used to missing them, in the years that had gone by. He might not have been Narnian, not truly, but, still, he had come to understand - the world was as Aslan willed it. So be it.
And yet, they were the closest thing that he had to family, and those partings were always hardest, in the end.
He held onto Edmund for a long time.
And then he let him go.
He stood at Aslan's side as the went through the tunnel, knowing that they were journeying not to Aslan's country as Reepicheep had, but further. He set himself to remembering their details, commiting them to memory, because he knew that he would never see them again. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes. Caspian turned away, about to say something to Aslan, to try and find some comfort...
And found himself alone on a narrow spar of sand, swordless, shipless, friendless and entirely too startled to shed a tear.
Wondering, he walked back towards the ocean. It wasn’t so surprising that he couldn’t see the Dawn Treader from here; they’d rowed through the floating lillies, after all, each stroke of the oar through up perfume with the splash. But the long boat was gone, too. There weren’t even footprints in the sand to find. For a brief, foolish moment he thought that, somehow, he’d ended up in Aslan’s country after all.
An idea struck him and he crouched, reaching down to trail his fingers in the water.
Salt. Just salt.
“How very strange,” he murmured.
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It only gave him a moment's pause thought; his heart was so full.
"Ed!" he says, coming out of the water with arms already open.
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“I say, Caspian, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Edmund exclaimed as he gave him a strong hug. “Did you only just arrive?” he asked, pulling back to arm’s reach. “That is to say, were you suddenly whisked here by magic you can’t seem to understand?”
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"Something like that, yes," he said, still smiling, though there was a somewhat bewildered look in his eyes. "I thought you gone forever, Ed. Aslan made it sound so...final."
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"It's confusing," he continued. "And forgive me if I don't do a very good job of things. I was there, too, I remember. But when Lucy and I went off with Aslan, instead of going home, to England, I showed up here. I assume it was Aslan's doing, though he never said anything about an island in the middle of nowhere, but I haven't the foggiest clue what he meant by it. And time's funny, of course. Not quite so bad as a thousand years. But five minutes ago for you was three and a half years for me. I've been here ever since."
Edmund had to stop himself from blazing on ahead. That was an awful lot of information to process in one go, he supposed, and even though there was more to tell, he thought it best not to overload Caspian.
no subject
"And where exactly is this, Ed? I should know - if I am to be here too, by Aslan's plan, I mean."