milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

The Knight had meant to be going through to his Lady's sitting room. The door hadn't functioned as a portal to the strange tavern for days, and he'd almost given up on the place as a fever-dream, one of the hallucinations he gets during his hour. But here he is again.

He looks a little puzzled, then shrugs and moves further in so as not to block the door.

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His grip tightens, and he looks at Rilian for a long moment, before looking up to Peter.

"Would he be able to break out of the rooms? You would know best, I think."

"We could ask Bar for access to a room he couldn't get out of," Peter says slowly. "We might even be able to arrange it so that he is automatically freed for his hour of sanity, each day - or at least if enough of us have keys, somebody could always let him out. That might be the best option, really. The cells are secure, but not particularly comfortable."

Edmund has, as it happens, quietly slipped back into the bar, and returns now, with tea in hand.

Admittedly it's tea with a shot of whiskey in it, but perhaps this is understandable.

He drops to a knee beside Rilian, then, offering it.

"My lord Rilian," he says, quietly, "I swear to you by the Lion's Mane that should the worst happen, and under your enchantment you escape these environs to return to that one you know as your lady when under her spell, even then shall you not be Narnia's downfall."

He's still trembling a little, but not badly enough that he can't accept the tea with a somewhat shaky smile of thanks.

"I thank you, my lord. And release is not necessary, not until I can be sure that I pose no danger to anyone. Keeping me from returning to the Witch will suffice."

"I think you may only prove a danger to me, in your enchated state," Caspian replies, with a small smile, watching him.

After a moment, he looks to the others. "A room. I'll not see my son be caged like some criminal. I will take the responsibility of keeping the door locked, Peter."

Peter nods.

"I'll go see to it."

And he hurries off into the bar, intent on his task.

Lucy is mostly silent, only folds her handkerchief neatly and puts it away, before kissing Caspian's cheek gently, and then looking back to Rilian. "Are you hungry?"

He looks surprised for a moment, then nods.

"I suppose I am, at that. Thank you, my Lady."

Caspian takes Lucy's hand, and keeps his other on Rilian's shoulder.

"We'll find you some food, then, while Peter sees about the room. 'Tis getting too cold to stand about outside, talking. And there is much still to be said."

"There is, indeed, much to be said."

He stands carefully, eyeing his sword.

"--I'll not have that with me, not while I might do harm."

Caspian looks at it, warily.

"A good idea, I think. Edmund, would you--?"

"Of course," Edmund murmurs, picking it up from its place on the ground. He hesitates a moment, studying it, before looking up at Rilian.

"If you should like, my lord, I shall take it to my rooms in the House of Arch; you will not be able to retrieve it, then, without my aid."

"Thank you, my lord. Should the day come I require it again, I shall let you know." A small smile. "And preferably not with bleeding wrists this time."

Because he remembers Edmund, and is grateful for the help he'd given him even in his enchanted state.

Peter reappears now, a key in one hand. He hands it to Caspian.

"Room 27. There isn't even a door visible from the inside unless you have the key and know where the keyhole is."

Caspian takes it, and looks at it for a long moment, before smiling slightly at Peter.

"Thank you, Peter. I--it is a great help."

He smiles, a little.

"Thank you, sir."

Caspian pauses.

"Before we continue, I'd have my son know who is aiding us."

He points them out in turn to Rilian.

"My lord Peter, the High King. His royal brother, my lord Edmund." He brings up Lucy's hand with a small smile.

"My lady, the Queen Lucy. Her cousin, Eustace, and the lady Jill."

Rilian looks taken aback for a moment, then bows.

"My Lords and Ladies, I am in your debt."

The bit about Queen Lucy being his father's lady can wait to be properly thought about later. He's had enough shock for one day.

"Nonsense," Peter says firmly. "You're family. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Rilian. Please do call me Peter."

Edmund may or may not roll his eyes, but it is at least hopefully out of most people's view if he does.

"My lord Rilian," he says, far more formally than his brother and king, "please. Let there be no talk of debts owed between us." He grins. "And drink your tea, it really will help, I swear to you."

"He's right on that, at least," she says with a smile.

Not at all awkwardly.

No.

"And let's get you some soup, shall we?"

Caspian takes her hand a bit more firmly, stubbornly ignoring whatever reactions they might be getting from Edmund or any of the others.

"A fine idea," he says, lightly, and leads Rilian over to a table, with enough seats for them all, stopping a waitrat along the way to order some food.

And enough tea for all.

Rilian still seems somewhat perturbed by everything, but he does at least start sipping the tea Edmund gave him.

Caspian does not touch the tea, only watches his son with a small smile, until the clock chimes the three-quarter hour.

That gains his attention very quickly, indeed.

"Rilian," he murmurs to his son, "come with me."

He stands, and bows to the others, giving Lucy's hand a brief kiss.

"I--would like to speak alone with my son, before the hour strikes. Thank you all, for your aid."

"Of course," Edmund replies, quietly.

It is possible he is eyeing Lucy.

Perhaps probable.