Caspian X | at the stables, in the bar

[the_seafarer]

It has been some time since his last sojourn here at the end of the Universe, but when Caspian enters from his cabin on the Princess Royal, the place looks quite the same as ever. 

A few new faces, and the lack of some old ones, but that same warm feeling is as present as he recalls.

And it's spring – better still. Moments after he arrives, he makes his way to the stables, where he spends a good deal of time cosseting his old friends. Who is managing the place now, he's not certain, but the horses and creatures seem well cared for. It gives him a pang to see Susan Allgood's once bustling stables so quiet and still, though, and he makes himself a promise that he'll come back more frequently to care for them as they deserve.

The horses he turns out, letting them stretch their legs in the warm spring sun as they frolic around the paddocks. Once they're set, he turns his attention to the problem of the Hope, waiting patiently in the stall where he'd set her to winter. The little boat needs plenty of work, but it'll be hard work to move it out into the fresh air by himself. He draws open the stable doors as wide as they can go, then begins setting wooden rollers on the ground.

Later, towards the evening, he may be found at the bar proper, a cup of tea at hand as he pens a letter.

... it is passing strange, to look about this place and not see those I expect. It feels rather as though they are simply just out of the corner of my eye, waiting for me to look at them so they can tease me for my long absence. And, of course, it is not the same without my raven girl, wind in her hair and the spring sun shining down upon her. The wildflowers are blooming, Marian. I wish you were here to see them.

Do come say hello.

Comments

[old_monster]

There is a man in white robes and a big sword on his back, standing by the water with a plastic cup of bubble tea, watching the man and his boat.

[the_seafarer]

The rollers make it easier, and the Hope is by no means a large vessel, but it's still a bit awkward for him to manage on his own.

Caspian pauses to catch his breath, leaning on the Hope's hull as he does, and catches sight of the white-robed man. "Hullo," he calls, cheerful.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

[old_monster]

"Probably," the man says. "Do you need a hand with that?"

[the_seafarer]

"One would be very much appreciated," Caspian says, in good humor. "Two would be even better."

He points to a grassy spot a little away from the water. "She's to go there."

[old_monster]

"Not on the lake?" the man says. "As boats do? She is special."

He does come closer, though, taking another sip from his tea and then putting it into his sleeve.

[the_seafarer]

"Not yet," Caspian tells him, cheerful. "She's been sitting out the winter and needs some repairs to be seaworthy again."

He nods to the roller he'd just passed over. "If you'd be so kind as to bring that to the front, I can push her forward."

[old_monster]

"No problem," Ye Baiyi says, picking up the roller and putting it in front.

Then, he takes out his drink and has another sip.

[the_seafarer]

"Capital."

Caspian pushes the boat forward another few inches and gives it a pleased look, then turns a curious glance on the man. "What an interesting method of storage," he muses, studying the sleeve. "Doesn't it spill about in there?"

[old_monster]

"No, it's a trick of the qi," Ye Baiyi says. "Not quite as magical as the cultivators' qiankun sleeves, but it follows the same principle."

[nerves_of_ice]

He's on his way back from the far pasture toward the bar, having found out what he needs to know, when he stops to watch the process unfolding.

Why the other man's putting those things down in front of a stable he's not sure. It doesn't look like any riding gear he's ever seen, not that he's really at all familiar with horses.

[the_seafarer]

Caspian straightens from placing one of the rollers, and sees the man watching nearby. "Hullo," he says, cheerfully. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sure is," he agrees, strolling closer. "Looks like winter's over and done with for now."

[the_seafarer]

"Here, at least," Caspian agrees, and turns to haul another roller into place.

"One never does know what season one might walk into here. This was a pleasant surprise."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Need a hand with that?" he offers.

"I guess you're right. I've just gotten used to taking this place as it comes."

[the_seafarer]

Caspian glances up at him and smiles, sea-grey eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, that's very kind," he says, and straightens, stepping back so the newcomer can see more clearly how the rollers are laid from an open stall containing a small wooden boat.

"Easier to get a cart, I expect," he muses, "but with the rollers I can move it myself."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Or a sling, or a trailer," he agrees. "But this should work."

Bucky eyes the boat with interest. "She's a nice one."

[the_seafarer]

"I suppose I could hitch Corella to a cart," he agrees, "but I've already turned her out, and a little exercise won't hurt me."

He nods to the rollers and sets the next in line, then moves to the boat and begins pushing it onto the first. "Thank you," he says, sounding pleased. "I built her... oh, years ago, now, when I first arrived at this place."

[queenofmay]

Marian is a little surprised that the door to her rooms in the palace opens instead on the wide and well-tabled bar at The End of the Universe. Surprise bleeds easily to quiet pleasure, as she glances over the space that looks at once like it did when she first came and last came, a thing untouched by time, even as time ever rolled on for both sides of The Door.

Somehow she isn't surprised when she spots a certain figure writing at one of the tables. A cup of tea no long steaming at one side, and Marian finds herself already almost halfway there by the time she's even fully chosen to interrupt. This, she had known even from the first glance at the door, is not one of the serious looks that would betoken care.

"Is this where you've run away to, then?"

[the_seafarer]

At that familiar voice, he looks up, already smiling.

"Have I summoned you?" he wonders, and shows her the letter he's writing, his smile warming like the spring sun.

"Perhaps I have run away... but not so very far."

[queenofmay]

"Or as far away as is possible." It is the end of the universe.

Perhaps, it's in her nature to be a little contrary, but there's no edge to it.

Her focus shifts to the hovering letter, she adds without pause, "I should think it would go to your head if The Bar let you just summon me from anywhere in the universe with a few words." Beat. The very slightest tilt of her lips. "Though. It might be fortuitous during the busier court days."

[the_seafarer]

He groans aloud and laughs, wry, reaching up to scrub one hand through his curling hair – bleached now from months on the water, standing in the sun. "It would indeed," he says, fervent.

Not that Marian is ever so very far away during those occasions, but he does suspect she occasionally lingers in conversation across the ball room expressly to laugh at him as he attempts to navigate the largely unwelcome affections of the ladies of the court.

[queenofmay]

Marian only partly-stifles a laugh that starts when he groans, unable to keep any part of the smile from coming out though. While she might face some erstwhile attention-of-intent in Amy's court, it was less than when she was in Nottingham, and it was nothing at all in comparison to Caspian. Queen Amy's chosen brother. Her very eligible chosen-brother. Her very eligible chosen brother who was potentially also a King. If one was listening to the gossip.

And not laughing about it. Or listening and laughing. (Or stuck in the occasional sitting rooms and parlors trying not to roll her eyes at the twitterpated fools. If they didn't prove they didn't know him at all with every breath, she might have been more charitable about it. Maybe.)

"Well, we seem to have found the second-best solution for now." There's the consideration of asking a polite situational question first, but she forgoes it. Instead for, "Do I get my letter now, then, or do I still have to wait for you to finish it and send it?"

"Or is it, perhaps, for Amy and I'm going to have to ask her to share the details?"

[the_seafarer]

"You may have it if you like," he laughs. "As it belongs to you and no one else."

He lifts the half-finished letter – half-finished, but still most of a page already – and offers it to her. "I thought to post it at the next port, but why should you have to wait so long?"

[queenofmay]

There's a thrill of warmth at his words; pleasure at being right, assuredly. A slightly arrogant one, even. Enough to make her blue-grey eyes sparkle in something rather freely like triumph. A thing happening easier these days. But she's coming to learn entertaining a pile of carefree children has that lingering effect.

"Maybe." Her gaze steadies on the letter, the temptation a curl in her stomach, but she half-turns on a heel, and switches to surveying where the wait-rats in the bar are currently. "But I think tea first, if you are amenable? And I have the chance to steal you briefly from your beloved sea quite a deal earlier than expected."

[the_cupbearer]

While Caspian is turning the horses out, Ganymede comes cantering up on his own; Aurelio slows to a walk, and his rider leans forward to tangle his fingers in the horse's mane, swinging down. He rubs down Aurelio's neck and withers, and smiles at Caspian.

"Taking care of the horses for us?" he asks, feeling Aurelio nudge his shoulder from behind. The horse knows Ganymede has molasses and oat cookies in his pocket.