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]

"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."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Assassination, huh?" Bucky stops scraping and looks up at him. "I'm sorry. It happens more than you'd think."

Weariness is in every line of him as he makes the observation.

"Glad it worked out in the end."

[the_seafarer]

"He attempted no fewer than three and succeeded in at least two," Caspian tells him.

"And I can easily imagine a great many men like Miraz who think nothing of committing such terrible crimes. Forgive me, but I am not so naïve as to think it at all unusual. Would that my reign had been wholly bereft of more such attempts by power-hungry schemers, but I cannot in honesty say as much."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Didn't mean to suggest you were," Bucky replies. "Especially with experience like that."

"But you're right. There's a lot of people like him out there." He draws a slow breath, then makes himself say it. "Fewer people like me, I hope, but far too many of those, too."

[the_seafarer]

"Like you?"

Caspian cannot conceal his bemusement; he can only make it as polite as possible. "Whatever do you mean?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Remember I mentioned things got messy?" He keeps both tone and gaze steady, completely unaware of the weary shadow in the depths of his glance.

"I was an assassin. For most of those years."

[the_seafarer]

Shocked surprise spears through Caspian, but he refuses to allow it to own him; he masters his expression and asks, quite calmly: "By choice?"

From the way the man spoke, he thinks not; it's difficult to reconcile the mental image of a willing killer with this soft-spoken man, though he knows, especially in a place such as this, that appearances may often deceive.

[nerves_of_ice]

"No." Just as quiet, just as steady as before. "They took my mind and made me a weapon. The Winter Soldier. But..."

He doesn't flinch from the other man in look or word.

"... I still did it. All of it. So. I'll understand if you'd rather I leave, now."

[the_seafarer]

They took my mind, he says, and Caspian is lost to a blind rush of memory, of a beloved, blank face.

(I do not know why you call me that, sir. I cannot be the man you think I am.)

The Winter Soldier, the Black Knight; perhaps it was no enchantment this time, but are the many worlds never to be free of this special cruelty?

("I tell you, I cannot be mistaken! Are you not Rilian, son of Caspian, and king of Narnia? Could I mistake my own son?")

He clings to his memories of Rilian as he'd seen his son last; when they knew each other. "No," he murmurs, and though the words are to the man before him, he might easily be speaking to someone unseen. "I wouldn't wish that. Not for the world."

[nerves_of_ice]

It's almost as though Caspian isn't speaking to him, as quiet as his response is. Bucky's gaze narrows just a little.

"It's okay if you do," he says. "I won't be insulted."

[the_seafarer]

Caspian rouses himself with an effort, blinking away Rilian's face to reveal Bucky's. "And yet I should be ashamed of myself if I did," he says, a little more clearly.

"Pray, don't suggest it. I meant what I said, truly."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Okay," Bucky says, simply. Only then does he set the scraper back to the next spot needing attention and begin working on Caspian's boat once more.

[the_seafarer]

He returns to checking another line, though his fingers are slower and less nimble now, his thoughts lost in memory.

Of Rilian... and of a pleasant evening by the fire, sliver flashing in a cloud of white. "It happened to me, too," he says, low. "Not for so long, but... an enchantment stole me from myself, caused me to betray and harm those I held most dear. And my son, too, was held prisoner beneath a curse of a similar sort. I cannot flings stones, Bucky; nor should I wish to if I could."

[nerves_of_ice]

He goes suddenly still, his gaze jerking to the other man.

"An enchantment? A curse?" Bucky shakes his head. "I'm sorry, then. That you know what it's like."

[the_seafarer]

"I do." He coils the line, shaking his head.

"And having received the understanding and forgiveness of my friends, I could hardly do less than extend the same to any other poor wretch who may have been abused in a similar way."

[nerves_of_ice]

Poor wretch. Well, he's not wrong, Bucky thinks.

He turns his attention back to the boat, rather than watching Caspian.

"How long was it for you?"