Fic: Star to Every Wandering
Apr. 5th, 2007 02:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lotesseTitle: The Star to Every Wandering
Pairing: Caspian/Lucy
Impossible love stories at sea, things unspoken and how the speaking changes everything.
1 2 3 4
From the Sea Contagious Fury
It was dark in the hold of the slave ship, and it smelled of fish and sweat and uncleaned bilges. They were fortunate to be there—all Pug’s other captives were already in Narrowhaven, one step closer to the auction block. Clearly he had been selling rather than acquiring, in the general way of things, but wasn’t about to pass up a windfall when it walked so blithely into his camp.
They had had the bad luck to be in a very wrong place at a very wrong time, but as Lucy thought in the silent darkness, it could have been much worse. At least they were alone in the cabin and not jammed up against masses of imprisoned humanity. Reepicheep wasn’t with them; the noble mouse had been taken up to the main cabin for the amusement of the slavers, and Lucy dearly hoped that he would be all right and not do anything terribly foolish. She was more worried for him than for any of the others, except perhaps Caspian. Not knowing anything of what had happened to him after the kindly lord had taken him away, she had to try very hard not to imagine the worst.
It seemed to her that time no longer had any significance. Each moment was and then ended, uncounted an unmarked. They sat in the dim, each alone in their own thoughts—Lucy anxious, Edmund thoughtful, Eustace unreadable without light to see by. The sea between the islands lay in a dead calm, and the boat was scarcely even rocking. They could not hear any sound of the water, if indeed any sound was being made.
It was Eustace, inevitably, who ended the silence. “Well, I like this,” he said, stiff and pompous. “How long are we to be kept down here like this? It’s not sanitary.” His words fell muffled onto the close, tarry planks, and though Lucy would rather he had not spoken at all still the silence after his voice faded was more oppressive than ever. She doubted in that terrible moment that she would ever hear any sound again.
Edmund gamely tried to break the torpid quiet again. “We’re all equally unhappy, Eustace,” he said, reaching for platitudes when he could find no other words. “But we’ll do what we can. Caspian will get help to us, and if he cannot we’ll get help to ourselves. But that lord who took him looked kindly, and I think he should fare well. He’s our best hope at the moment.”
Eustace sneered. “He’ll be well enough, very likely. He’ll waste no time in enjoying himself out there, never mind that we’re stuck in this nasty little hole. It would be just his sort of trick, to take no notice of all our sufferings.”
Lucy flared up out of her worry. Eustace Scrubb on top of everything else was just too much for even her usually extensive patience. “Oh shut up, Eustace,” she said acidly. “You know well enough that there was nothing Caspian could have done. Besides, I’m not so sure he’s any better off than we are. He’s been sold, after all, and we all still have the chance to escape that.” Her voice fell, and to Edmund’s ears she sounded fearful and lonely underneath the snappishness.
“He’ll be all right, Lu. He’s no fool, and not sold to a brute,” he said, taking her hand and trying to speak confidently. Lucy smiled at him through the dark, and gave the hand a grateful squeeze. They were in Narnia again, where it was all right to be sentimental sometimes.
“I know. He’ll get us out, Ed, and everything will turn out,” she said, just for the sake of saying something.
“And what makes you so sure of that?” Eustace said nastily, cutting the comfort like a dull knife, not brave enough to be strong for the sake of others. “Why should he bother about us enough to risk it, if he does manage to get loose? He’s rich and powerful, and you think he’ll want to just throw that away do you, and take the chance of being enslaved again?”
Lucy laughed, and the sound was strange in that sorrowful place. Her mind, for the first time since they had been separated from Caspian, was clear and untroubled. “As if Caspian would ever just leave us here! The idea of it, Eustace. Don’t worry that he won’t come. He’s not like that.” She tried to be kind to her cousin, as a rule. Being closest in age to Edmund had taught her something about the uses of nastiness as protection, and she had often had the impression that Eustace was cruelest when he was most afraid.
But Eustace laughed back at her. “Do you think that he’ll come just for you, cousin Lucy? Do you think that he has some special wish not to leave you behind? If you do then you’re a fool. You’re far too plain for that sort of thing.”
Edmund growled at him. “Shut you mouth, you beast.”
Lucy held tight to his hand, restraining him with a touch and a word. “Oh, don’t. Don’t quarrel with him, that’s just what he wants and you know it’s all lies.” The taunt caught at her and took her breath away, but it wasn’t true. She’d never expect Caspian to…not for her, of all people. She was determined to ignore it. “It’s all lies,” she soothed her irate brother again.
“Oh is it?” crowed Eustace. “No, Lu, I don’t think you’ll convince him. You see, he knows better. He’s seen the way Caspian looks at you, haven’t you Ed?” The boy continued recklessly on, provoking his cousin as much as humanly possible. “He’s a man as well, and he understands that lordly chaps like Caspian will look at plain little girls if there’s nothing better to be had, but won’t bother to risk slavery or imprisonment for them. Why should he? You may have your uses, Lu, but you’re not worth that.”
The sound of Lucy’s slap resounded through the darkness, quickly followed by the sound of her angry tears, though she said nothing.
And now Edmund did fly at Eustace, grabbing him roughly and holding him down, bent double so that his nose was pressed to the foul planking. “See here, cousin,” he said with dangerous emphasis, his voice cold with fury,” be ware of your tongue. I am a King of Narnia, and brother to the High King of all the land. I will not tolerate threat or slander to my sister the Queen. Reepicheep has already thrashed you, and though he is not the least of my subjects in skill or valor yet still I think that you would not like to have me as your opponent, who struck the White Witch and bested Rabadash Prince of Calormen.”
Eustace, whimpering, squeaked out, “Come off it, Ed. Don’t be ridiculous. Stop it, stop it, or I’ll tell Alberta as soon as we’re back!”
“You will not insult a Queen of Narnia,” Edmund thundered, taking no notice, “Or by Aslan I will prove her virtue on your body with any weapon you choose!”
A rough boot thumped against the decks above them, and a harsh voice called down, “Less noise in the hold! Lie quiet or I’ll make you quiet with the business end of the lash!” Laughter broke like fine china being smashed, and there was quite a lot of noisy stomping and jeering and what sounded like one of Reep’s indignant squeaks.
For a long moment everything was silent, and then Eustace said, “All right, all right. I take it back. Can’t even take a joke, any of you.” He sat up with an air of ill grace, like a whipped dog, but he wasn’t done yet. He’d found a nerve, and he meant to make the most of it. Leaning close to his cousin’s ear to pour poison in, he said in a mutter, “Would you be so angry if you didn’t suspect that it was true, Ed?” Edmund’s brow furrowed, but he retained his composure and said nothing. He had no wish to talk about it, not with Lucy right there and certainly not with Eustace Scrubb.
Instead he crawled over to Lucy, who was silent and pale and, he suspected, weeping a bit in the dark.
She felt like such a fool. Lucy understood her cousin, though she didn’t like him, and knew why he acted the way he did. Eustace would latch on to anything if he thought it could get a rise out of someone, with no thought given to the truth of it. She knew that, but his voice had very neatly matched that of certain as-yet-unspoken fears of her own that she found it hard to laugh him off the way she normally could.
“Lucy,” Edmund said gently, “Lucy don’t. I don’t believe it, not any of it. Eustace,” he called out, imperious, “apologize to the Queen this instant.”
Eustace was a great coward, and had no trouble abandoning his plans for the sake of his own self-preservation, and so he did so. He groveled enough that even Edmund was content, but it made little difference to poor Lucy. Her mind was in turmoil over the things that Eustace had said, and the way that they had struck home. She didn’t expect Caspian to save them out of love for her or anything ridiculous like that, but still it had hurt dreadfully when Eustace had said that he would not. And some part of her whispered treacherously that it would be lovely it he did.
“He’s not like that,” Edmund told her. “You know he’s not. He’ll do everything he can to get us free, and we’ll go back to the Dawn Treader, and once we’re underway all this will be just another adventure to boast about. Caspian would never use a woman,” he added in an undertone. “He has too much honour.”
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “I know.” She said no more, but her thoughts were still tumbling over one another like fishes in a weir. Edmund had been so upset…and Eustace’s remarks about plain girls stung, though she knew it was silly of her. It wasn’t as if Caspian had ever been likely to fall in love with her. And it wasn’t as if she had ever wanted him to. Edmund had likely just been reacting to the slur about her having some uses. There was no reason for him to be angry or worried about anything else.
They were quiet the rest of that night. Lucy fell asleep against her brother, who watched her through the gloom. Around nightfall Reepicheep was brought down to join them, and he took up a position near to the Pevensies, as if guarding them. Eustace sat by himself on the other side of the little hold, neither looking at nor speaking to his cousins.
In the night a fine wind blew up, howling through the channel and tossing the boat to and fro like a rough child with a plaything. Edmund and Lucy did not wake, but Eustace felt most abominably sick and slept very little. They were woken early the next morning and given fresh water to wash with. Pug placed the basin down in front of Lucy with a mocking bow, and then went to stand outside the door with a great show of gallantry that made Edmund mutter curses under his breath and Reepicheep put a hand to where his sword used to be, before it had been taken from him. Lucy took no real notice. Soon they were to be taken to the marketplace and sold. She could think of nothing else. Sold.
As they washed and dressed, all of their thoughts were on Caspian, in hope and in fear.
Pairing: Caspian/Lucy
Impossible love stories at sea, things unspoken and how the speaking changes everything.
1 2 3 4
From the Sea Contagious Fury
It was dark in the hold of the slave ship, and it smelled of fish and sweat and uncleaned bilges. They were fortunate to be there—all Pug’s other captives were already in Narrowhaven, one step closer to the auction block. Clearly he had been selling rather than acquiring, in the general way of things, but wasn’t about to pass up a windfall when it walked so blithely into his camp.
They had had the bad luck to be in a very wrong place at a very wrong time, but as Lucy thought in the silent darkness, it could have been much worse. At least they were alone in the cabin and not jammed up against masses of imprisoned humanity. Reepicheep wasn’t with them; the noble mouse had been taken up to the main cabin for the amusement of the slavers, and Lucy dearly hoped that he would be all right and not do anything terribly foolish. She was more worried for him than for any of the others, except perhaps Caspian. Not knowing anything of what had happened to him after the kindly lord had taken him away, she had to try very hard not to imagine the worst.
It seemed to her that time no longer had any significance. Each moment was and then ended, uncounted an unmarked. They sat in the dim, each alone in their own thoughts—Lucy anxious, Edmund thoughtful, Eustace unreadable without light to see by. The sea between the islands lay in a dead calm, and the boat was scarcely even rocking. They could not hear any sound of the water, if indeed any sound was being made.
It was Eustace, inevitably, who ended the silence. “Well, I like this,” he said, stiff and pompous. “How long are we to be kept down here like this? It’s not sanitary.” His words fell muffled onto the close, tarry planks, and though Lucy would rather he had not spoken at all still the silence after his voice faded was more oppressive than ever. She doubted in that terrible moment that she would ever hear any sound again.
Edmund gamely tried to break the torpid quiet again. “We’re all equally unhappy, Eustace,” he said, reaching for platitudes when he could find no other words. “But we’ll do what we can. Caspian will get help to us, and if he cannot we’ll get help to ourselves. But that lord who took him looked kindly, and I think he should fare well. He’s our best hope at the moment.”
Eustace sneered. “He’ll be well enough, very likely. He’ll waste no time in enjoying himself out there, never mind that we’re stuck in this nasty little hole. It would be just his sort of trick, to take no notice of all our sufferings.”
Lucy flared up out of her worry. Eustace Scrubb on top of everything else was just too much for even her usually extensive patience. “Oh shut up, Eustace,” she said acidly. “You know well enough that there was nothing Caspian could have done. Besides, I’m not so sure he’s any better off than we are. He’s been sold, after all, and we all still have the chance to escape that.” Her voice fell, and to Edmund’s ears she sounded fearful and lonely underneath the snappishness.
“He’ll be all right, Lu. He’s no fool, and not sold to a brute,” he said, taking her hand and trying to speak confidently. Lucy smiled at him through the dark, and gave the hand a grateful squeeze. They were in Narnia again, where it was all right to be sentimental sometimes.
“I know. He’ll get us out, Ed, and everything will turn out,” she said, just for the sake of saying something.
“And what makes you so sure of that?” Eustace said nastily, cutting the comfort like a dull knife, not brave enough to be strong for the sake of others. “Why should he bother about us enough to risk it, if he does manage to get loose? He’s rich and powerful, and you think he’ll want to just throw that away do you, and take the chance of being enslaved again?”
Lucy laughed, and the sound was strange in that sorrowful place. Her mind, for the first time since they had been separated from Caspian, was clear and untroubled. “As if Caspian would ever just leave us here! The idea of it, Eustace. Don’t worry that he won’t come. He’s not like that.” She tried to be kind to her cousin, as a rule. Being closest in age to Edmund had taught her something about the uses of nastiness as protection, and she had often had the impression that Eustace was cruelest when he was most afraid.
But Eustace laughed back at her. “Do you think that he’ll come just for you, cousin Lucy? Do you think that he has some special wish not to leave you behind? If you do then you’re a fool. You’re far too plain for that sort of thing.”
Edmund growled at him. “Shut you mouth, you beast.”
Lucy held tight to his hand, restraining him with a touch and a word. “Oh, don’t. Don’t quarrel with him, that’s just what he wants and you know it’s all lies.” The taunt caught at her and took her breath away, but it wasn’t true. She’d never expect Caspian to…not for her, of all people. She was determined to ignore it. “It’s all lies,” she soothed her irate brother again.
“Oh is it?” crowed Eustace. “No, Lu, I don’t think you’ll convince him. You see, he knows better. He’s seen the way Caspian looks at you, haven’t you Ed?” The boy continued recklessly on, provoking his cousin as much as humanly possible. “He’s a man as well, and he understands that lordly chaps like Caspian will look at plain little girls if there’s nothing better to be had, but won’t bother to risk slavery or imprisonment for them. Why should he? You may have your uses, Lu, but you’re not worth that.”
The sound of Lucy’s slap resounded through the darkness, quickly followed by the sound of her angry tears, though she said nothing.
And now Edmund did fly at Eustace, grabbing him roughly and holding him down, bent double so that his nose was pressed to the foul planking. “See here, cousin,” he said with dangerous emphasis, his voice cold with fury,” be ware of your tongue. I am a King of Narnia, and brother to the High King of all the land. I will not tolerate threat or slander to my sister the Queen. Reepicheep has already thrashed you, and though he is not the least of my subjects in skill or valor yet still I think that you would not like to have me as your opponent, who struck the White Witch and bested Rabadash Prince of Calormen.”
Eustace, whimpering, squeaked out, “Come off it, Ed. Don’t be ridiculous. Stop it, stop it, or I’ll tell Alberta as soon as we’re back!”
“You will not insult a Queen of Narnia,” Edmund thundered, taking no notice, “Or by Aslan I will prove her virtue on your body with any weapon you choose!”
A rough boot thumped against the decks above them, and a harsh voice called down, “Less noise in the hold! Lie quiet or I’ll make you quiet with the business end of the lash!” Laughter broke like fine china being smashed, and there was quite a lot of noisy stomping and jeering and what sounded like one of Reep’s indignant squeaks.
For a long moment everything was silent, and then Eustace said, “All right, all right. I take it back. Can’t even take a joke, any of you.” He sat up with an air of ill grace, like a whipped dog, but he wasn’t done yet. He’d found a nerve, and he meant to make the most of it. Leaning close to his cousin’s ear to pour poison in, he said in a mutter, “Would you be so angry if you didn’t suspect that it was true, Ed?” Edmund’s brow furrowed, but he retained his composure and said nothing. He had no wish to talk about it, not with Lucy right there and certainly not with Eustace Scrubb.
Instead he crawled over to Lucy, who was silent and pale and, he suspected, weeping a bit in the dark.
She felt like such a fool. Lucy understood her cousin, though she didn’t like him, and knew why he acted the way he did. Eustace would latch on to anything if he thought it could get a rise out of someone, with no thought given to the truth of it. She knew that, but his voice had very neatly matched that of certain as-yet-unspoken fears of her own that she found it hard to laugh him off the way she normally could.
“Lucy,” Edmund said gently, “Lucy don’t. I don’t believe it, not any of it. Eustace,” he called out, imperious, “apologize to the Queen this instant.”
Eustace was a great coward, and had no trouble abandoning his plans for the sake of his own self-preservation, and so he did so. He groveled enough that even Edmund was content, but it made little difference to poor Lucy. Her mind was in turmoil over the things that Eustace had said, and the way that they had struck home. She didn’t expect Caspian to save them out of love for her or anything ridiculous like that, but still it had hurt dreadfully when Eustace had said that he would not. And some part of her whispered treacherously that it would be lovely it he did.
“He’s not like that,” Edmund told her. “You know he’s not. He’ll do everything he can to get us free, and we’ll go back to the Dawn Treader, and once we’re underway all this will be just another adventure to boast about. Caspian would never use a woman,” he added in an undertone. “He has too much honour.”
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “I know.” She said no more, but her thoughts were still tumbling over one another like fishes in a weir. Edmund had been so upset…and Eustace’s remarks about plain girls stung, though she knew it was silly of her. It wasn’t as if Caspian had ever been likely to fall in love with her. And it wasn’t as if she had ever wanted him to. Edmund had likely just been reacting to the slur about her having some uses. There was no reason for him to be angry or worried about anything else.
They were quiet the rest of that night. Lucy fell asleep against her brother, who watched her through the gloom. Around nightfall Reepicheep was brought down to join them, and he took up a position near to the Pevensies, as if guarding them. Eustace sat by himself on the other side of the little hold, neither looking at nor speaking to his cousins.
In the night a fine wind blew up, howling through the channel and tossing the boat to and fro like a rough child with a plaything. Edmund and Lucy did not wake, but Eustace felt most abominably sick and slept very little. They were woken early the next morning and given fresh water to wash with. Pug placed the basin down in front of Lucy with a mocking bow, and then went to stand outside the door with a great show of gallantry that made Edmund mutter curses under his breath and Reepicheep put a hand to where his sword used to be, before it had been taken from him. Lucy took no real notice. Soon they were to be taken to the marketplace and sold. She could think of nothing else. Sold.
As they washed and dressed, all of their thoughts were on Caspian, in hope and in fear.