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

[nerves_of_ice]

"You're not," Bucky assures him. "I was just checking one of the pastures to see if it'd be good for a goat. Nothing big."

He takes the other side of the sails from Caspian, helping to draw them over the grass and looking for signs of tears or damage in need of repair.

[the_seafarer]

Caspian laughs, bright and boyish. "Won't the horses be surprised?" he says, amused at the very image.

"But do me a favor and keep the creature away from the stallions, won't you? They get a bit territorial."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I was thinking to keep her away from all the horses," he says, dryly. "I just figured it'd be a better idea for her to be out here rather than tied up in the bar for longer than a few minutes."

[the_seafarer]

"Heavens, yes."

He is far less familiar with goats than other four-legged beasts, but even he knows that much. "Well, the horses aren't likely to mind her, but if you like, I'll help build a little pen where she can stay."

[nerves_of_ice]

"That'd be great," Bucky agrees. "Thanks. She's definitely too small for the pasture. She'd be through that fence quick as lightning."

[the_seafarer]

"A favor for a favor," Caspian says, cheerily, as he sinks to a knee and begins fastidiously checking the larger of the two sails.

"And I'll feel better having repaid the labor. There's some clever wire fencing I've seen used here on occasion, perhaps that would suffice, on a wooden frame."

[nerves_of_ice]

He keeps working through the sail he's already taken up. "I don't mind," he points out. "Don't feel like you have to repay anything."

[the_seafarer]

Something about this quiet man and his statement reminds him suddenly and forcefully of Ennis, and Caspian's smile turns crooked for a moment.

"Well, we wouldn't get very far if we didn't help one another with things here, would we?" he asks, reasonable. "And I shouldn't mind in the least. Besides, the animals here were once my responsibility, and I suppose old habits die hard."

[nerves_of_ice]

"True," Bucky agrees, then looks up at him in surprise.

"They were?"

[the_seafarer]

"Oh, yes."

There's no mistaking the wistfulness in his expression now; he pauses a moment in his work and looks over at the stables, seeing something or someone invisible to the eyes of his companion. "I was stablemaster here for... oh, quite a while."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Until things changed?" he suggests, gently, not wanting to pry.

[the_seafarer]

"Until I had to leave, for a while." A shadow falls over him and his clear eyes looks suddenly far too old for the face which holds them. "To go to war."

He glances up, a rueful almost-smile flickering over his lips. "Not being certain I'd come back, you see, I left the care of the stables to another, as they had been left to me once before."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Ah," Bucky says, quietly, and there's understanding in his own gaze. "Know how that goes."

[the_seafarer]

"Do you," Caspian murmurs, thinking of Narnia shattering beneath Aslan's roar, of the blood and smoke and flame, of the stable door and the yawning emptiness beyond. Of the handful of them, against the host of Calormenes.

"Then I am sorry. Very sorry, indeed."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Same goes," Bucky says, quietly.

He doesn't ask if Caspian and those he fought with won their fight. Bucky knows full well that even when war's necessary, it changes those who go through it.

"You're here now," he says instead, after a moment, and makes no mention of alive or dead. "Boat and all."

[the_seafarer]

"So I am," Caspian agrees, more cheerfully. "And it is very pleasant to be back, indeed. It's been a long while."

He leaves off his study of the sails to get to his feet and return to the Hope, running his fingers over the dull wood of the brightwork and the faded painted ivy vine that twines along the gunwale. "And with no time to spare, if I wish to get the Hope back in the water before summer begins."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky crouches back on his heels and watches this. "I'm more used to metal boats," he admits. "And metal ships. But there were some working boats still made of wood where I grew up."

[the_seafarer]

"Were there?" Caspian asks, with interest. His fingers catch on a rough spot on the gunwale and he makes a mental note, then sticks his head into the cockpit to study the interior of the hull.

"There were none at all when I was a child. My uncle had them all destroyed; he was terrified of the sea."

He straightens and looks at the man. "But I had a friend who came from a world with large metal ships. Told me all about them on a voyage."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Uh-huh. If you've been coming around here for a while..." Bucky considers him. "Anyone ever mention a place called New York to you?"

As the rest of what Caspian's said sinks in, he frowns and adds, "Also, your uncle sounds like ... uh, a little shortsighted," he settles on, trying not to offend him.

[the_seafarer]

"New York," he says, thoughtful, then grins, boyish and pleased. "Yes, of course. There was a New York in the world Eustace and the Pevensies were from, though they didn't live there. They came from London."

Caspian thinks on his uncle and laughs, a wry, muted sound. "Short-sighted," he says. "Yes. It took us a great deal of time to build the navy back up once more. But we managed it in the end, I'm pleased to say."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I know London," Bucky agrees. "Although as you could guess, I'm from New York. It's a big port city. Lots of trade, lots of shipping. I worked on the docks for a while, back before the war."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a wry smile. "Good for you."

[the_seafarer]

"Is it?" Caspian gives him an encouraging smile and turns his attention to the outer hull on the little boat's port side. "Sounds rather bustling and lively."

Before the war. Oh, he is sick to his bones of war. Thank the Lion his orders for the Princess Royal are those of exploration and diplomacy only. "There's always something new in a place like that, hey?"

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky grins at him. "Always."

He finishes going over the sails. "Got a few places here that could use some mending," he observes. "New canvas, maybe."

Bucky heads for the starboard side and starts examining it for signs of weathering or wear.

[the_seafarer]

"I'll be doing some patching, I expect."

On the sails and the hull both. He runs his palm over the curving wooden side of the little boat. "And painting."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Maybe some sanding, too," Bucky says, eyeing one patch in particular. "Want help?"