Log; Complete

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

When; Dec 13 (late night)
Rating; PG? PG13?
Characters; Caspian X treadingdawn, Peter Pevensie oshutup, soon to include Susan Pevensie lionesssejant, and Lucy Pevensie lionesscouchant
Summary; The White Witch's wand moves in mysterious ways.
Log;

Traversing empty hallways at night is nothing new to Caspian, except his purpose tonight has little to do with stargazing. He has been hearing it and trying to understand what it is and why it makes him feel a sinking swell in the pit of his stomach. The muddy feeling is inescapable and makes him feel full even when he is hungry. The feeling isn't pleasant at all. Caspian swallows nothing as his bare feet pad softly up the stairs to the attic. It's colder here, in the dark, and he should be distressed that he doesn't mind it. He breathes in a slight shiver and a floorboard creaks, giving him reason to pause. Did anyone hear it? He is so very near the door. He doesn't wish to stand still here for very long.

Come into my parlor, says the spider to the fly, for I have a little something here.

Comments

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

He isn't thinking of the pain in his shoulder and that she did this to him. He only hears her voice, that same voice that was strong on the battlefield and never wavered even when things were crumbling around them. Queen Susan's face never cracked, not when son nodded goodbye to father and brother, not when her brother couldn't turn away from the gate. Her voice did not shudder when they said goodbye. Susan is not supposed to be small. Caspian wants to tell her it's all right, whatever happened, it's all right, except that it's not. But he doesn't blame her for the blood, for the open flesh. He blames the wand. That wretched thing tearing holes in weaker seams. That wretched thing sitting so lifelessly under a dresser. It doesn't speak anymore, or maybe Caspian is beyond listening. He hears the pulse at his temples the loudest.

And then there's Peter's face, marred by bruises and blood. Did I do that to you? He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, staining it.

"Downstairs," says the Telmarine followed by a swallow. He doesn't even have the sense to complete that suggestion, which is to go downstairs and simply get out of here. They will not do well tending to wounds and comforting small voices up here. It is vital that they don't spend anymore time with that thing so near.

[oshutup.livejournal.com]

She's sorry? She's sorry? For all that she let an arrow fly in more than one way, Peter is angry with himself for letting this happen, as if he had some power over it, which is irrational, but there, that is the thing of it, isn't it? To perceive the waver in her voice, in her expression makes him feel like a failure, makes him think he is not fit to protect his own family. How was he ever a king of anything? She's sorry? I'm sorry, he thinks but his throat is dry and he can't form words right now. Pushing off of the wall with some effort, Peter nods at Caspian's suggestion, walking over to Susan because sentences fail him at the moment. He is an utter mess, but he hopes she doesn't mind as the hand of his good arm and shoulder--the right--reaches out and takes hers.

"Come on," he says, thumb brushing over her knuckles. "It's," he pauses. "It's not your fault...so...come on." And he's standing in the doorway, tugging gently at her hand so as to guide her to pass through before him. The look he gives Caspian over his shoulder is brief, but pointed. What a mess. All of this. He shakes his head. What apologies he has are not good enough but he will try to give them later anyway. Later. For now, he releases Susan's hand apologetically, only to turn fully to the Telmarine and walk back, kneeling beside him.

It is with a look of I know that he offers his right arm. It's better than nothing.

[lionesssejant.livejournal.com]

No, she doesn't mind at all. In fact, she wants to hold him tight. That's not the kind of person that she is. She's Susan the Gentle, just Susan. His hand will do for now, she gives it a squeeze and follows his lead. They'll walk away from this together. Somehow.

There's something more than she can say. I love you to both of them. She does, of course she does, and this remorse for such foreign harshness is just part of the proof. And so is what she's done. What she had to do, helping and hindering at the same time.

That wand does not belong here. That is what is crystal clear.

Her quiver is still over her shoulder, while Peter approaches Caspian she picks up the discarded bow. She'll wait for them so they all can go at once.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

He looks to Susan again, feeling a bit ashamed for causing injury to Peter and making it necessary for her to cause injury to him. There's another moment of doubt, doubt that he really belongs here, that he is welcome to the family. Not by the family themselves but by something else. Maybe he should not be here no matter how close they are. Just look at what they've done. Caspian's brow furrows and he thinks for a moment they should leave first. Then he remembers what Luna said and it's erased just as quickly, leaving only the faint outline of self-deprecation when that arm comes into view.

He takes Peter's arm and gets to his feet with assisted effort. His mid-section hurts something terrible, the only part of him that really demands attention even though it's the only injury that doesn't bleed. He says nothing of it, knowing it will heal in time. And then to blue eyes the Telmarine recently tried to gouge he also says nothing, save for a look.

It will be okay.

And to Susan when he walks towards the door, slowly and with Peter to join her. Because she's not alone, not this time. Not yet. He reaches to her hand with those bruised hand, giving it a grip that tries to be firm with three good fingers.

It will be okay.