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

[the_seafarer]

"It changed people," Caspian recalls, carefully running a length of line through his fingers and checking for any weaknesses. "Turned them into strange versions of themselves. It wore off after a few days, but it was an odd week, I must say."

[nerves_of_ice]

An entire plank's worth of paint peels off all at once from the force he applies. Bucky lifts the scraper and checks carefully to make sure he's not caused any harm, not looking up.

"Sounds like it."

[the_seafarer]

Caspian glances over, but Bucky hasn't hurt himself and he can't hurt the Hope, not in any way that can't be repaired, and so Caspian turns back to his own task.

"But then, the good here far outweighs the bad," he observes. "I, for instance, had given up on the dream of seeing other worlds before I came here." He looks back up at Bucky. "Have you visited others, as well? Or kept to your own?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"True," he says, looking up again. One corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. "I have. A couple, anyway. Don't suppose you've ever heard of a place called Thedas?"

[the_seafarer]

"Never," Caspian says, shaking his head. "What is it like?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"I liked it," Bucky says, honestly. "Lots less tech than where I'm from--"
Especially now.

"--but that never mattered much. Dragons and castles and wyverns and the Deep Roads and magic and mystery and more. Spent pretty much all the time I was there in a kingdom called Ferelden."

[the_seafarer]

"It sounds a grand place," Caspian says, though he looks somewhat wry at the mention of dragons. "I imagine that was how the Pevensies felt when they first came to Narnia."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I could see it," he agrees, over the scraping sounds of paint removal. "At least I'd been here first, so even though it was different, it was ... familiar somehow."

He shrugs. "And mercenaries are the same everywhere, I guess."

[the_seafarer]

"I expect so," Caspian agrees, and leans to direct Bucky to another crack. "Though I have had few enough dealings with them to be able to say."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Lucky you," Bucky drawls, going to work on the new spot. "But I figure most people don't."

[the_seafarer]

"I should hope not," Caspian agrees, easily.

"Were there giants in this Thedas?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"We didn't run across any while I was there, but yeah," he confirms. "I think they were mostly to the north of where we were."

[the_seafarer]

"They were to the north in Narnia, too," Caspian muses. "I wonder if giants simply prefer the cold."

He has yet to run into any in Ambergeldar's world, but he is by no means convinced none inhabit it.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Maybe. It might be some weird metabolism thing," says the super-soldier who's become all too familiar with various 'weird metabolism things' that affect one's reaction to cold.

"You talk about them like you ran into them once or twice."

[the_seafarer]

"I have, aye," Caspian tells him. "They would keep pressing at our Northern borders, and so had to be pushed firmly back. We hadn't any trouble with them after that for a long while."

But thoughts of battle vanish for a moment and he laughs at a memory. "And of course there was the Giant Wimbleweather; not a very bright chap, but a loyal one."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Oh?" Bucky grins at him, the smile drawn out by the other man's laughter. "How so?"

[the_seafarer]

"Well, he was terribly well-meaning, of course, but dreadfully tall, even for a small giant."

Those days had been dark and grim and desperate, but through it all had shone the warm light of companionship and camaraderie, for which he is still thankful. "And so he had trouble hearing the rest of us, being so far below his ears. There was one battle when he and our other heavy-hitters were meant to rush in all at once at a particular time... but he'd misheard and misunderstood and went too early and the whole thing fell apart. Poor fellow; he was as brave as a lion but hopelessly easy to confuse."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky winces at that. "That must have been a mess." He considers Caspian a little more carefully than before.

"Were you in command? A captain or something?"

[the_seafarer]

"It was," Caspian confirms, wry. "We were soundly thrashed. Poor old Wimbleweather was perfectly distraught."

He finishes with the line and begins coiling it before looking up. "In command, yes. We were fighting my uncle, you see; the Usurper. But I was only a boy then, and we none of us really knew what we were doing."

[nerves_of_ice]

He puts the pieces together from the available clues and nods. "So, king, then. Or duke, or whatever it is for Narnia."

Bucky sounds completely matter-of-fact about this, and keeps scraping at the paint as he talks.

"I don't think anyone knows what they're doing the first time they go to war."

[the_seafarer]

Caspian's mouth twitches, imagining Reepicheep's – or even Marian's – likely reaction to his rank being so dismissed. "King," he says, lightly.

"And I certainly didn't. We were losing, dreadfully."

[nerves_of_ice]

"King," he confirms. He's pretty sure that if the other man were actually interested in standing on his rank he'd have mentioned it a while back and not led with his work as a stablemaster first. "I figure you consider yourself off duty here, but tell me if I should be calling you Highness or something, okay?"

Bucky runs his thumb over the edges of the plank and carefully scrapes off the last of the old paint, then does it again to check.

"So what changed?"

[the_seafarer]

"Just Caspian, I beg you," Caspian tells him, easily. "If every royal who came here stood upon ceremony, it'd get desperately confusing, wouldn't it? Who would take precedence?"

He amuses himself for a moment with a thought of them all taking turns, then shakes it away. "I winded Queen Susan's horn," he answers, just as if this were a perfectly normal strategy to take when one is losing a war. "Its magic brought the four Pevensies back to Narnia to aid us."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky nods to him. "Kings and princesses are just people," he observes, with the kind of certainty that comes from experience, and seemingly untroubled at making this observation to an actual king. "Although I guess that gets forgotten sometimes."

"Magic horn, huh? I think I've heard of that kind of thing in a legend once upon a time, or something. Good thing you had it."

[the_seafarer]

"I wish someone might have convinced my uncle of that," Caspian says, quietly. "Perhaps then he may have been content as a prince, instead of murdering my father."

(King of a lost land, Prince of an abandoned country)

He isn't wrong, of course, this man; royals are people as much as anyone else, though the scale of responsibility leans heavily on the good sort. "Oh, yes," he agrees. "My tutor, old Doctor Cornelius, had managed to find it. The whole thing took some doing, but we won through, in the end."