Next chapter as promised! Apologies for this slightly altered schedule, but as of Dec 10 everything will be back to normal with weekly updates.
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Chapter 3
(Caspian)
At last, Aslan answers Caspian's prayers. Rumors begin to float about that the White Stag has been spotted around Aslan's How. It can grant any wish – perhaps it can even grant peace to Narnia. Caspian is bound and determined to find out, to chase down any opportunity to bring peace to the divided country. Perhaps this stag, the same that the Kings and Queens of Old chased those long centuries ago, can do what Caspian hasn't yet been able to do in his months as king.
Caspian hopes so. He's prayed for this since his coronation, and now it may finally have a chance of coming true. Perhaps this stag is Aslan's sign, his gift to Narnia.
Caspian leaves at dawn, mere hours after the rumors come to his ears. Trumpkin and Doctor Cornelius have promised to keep things running smoothly at the castle while Caspian chases the stag, and they're all prepared for him to spend a few days chasing it.
Destrier keeps a steady, thundering pace over the plains and through the woods. Caspian's reminded briefly of his night ride for his life and freedom many months ago. It feels as though it was years ago. Has he really fought for peace for less than a year? How the time flies.
Caspian pushes Destrier hard, pushes until the horse protests such a frantic pace and starts to balk at Caspian's urgings. Caspian relents, guilt for his rudeness loosening his hands on the reins, but it's a relief when Destrier thunders up to the Great River and swims across. The water is cold against his legs, and the soaking is a bit unpleasant with the winter months fast approaching. Caspian begins to wish for a change of breeches as Destrier continues on alongside the river.
He rests the night in the woods, and is greeted by two Talking Rabbits in the morning. They offer him a breakfast of fresh fruits and vegetables, which he gladly partakes of. Then he's off again, asking Destrier to please hurry because he finally has a chance to truly live up to his title. Destrier tosses his head as if he understands, and Caspian could swear the stallion gallops a bit faster through the trees. He offers his thanks and an abundance of oats for Destrier's trouble in the midday meal, and rests for two hours before pressing on. He doesn't want to miss the stag entirely.
At long last, Caspian arrives at the How. Destrier bursts through the trees around the How's plain, sweaty and tired from the ride, but just then Caspian catches a flash of white among the trees on the other side of the plain.
"Come on Destrier, we've almost caught what we came for!" Caspian urges his horse on, and with a flick of his tail Destrier complies. They're across the plain within seconds.
"Whoa, whoa!" A girl's voice shouts, and a neigh very nearly splits Caspian's ears in two.
Destrier rears, another horse suddenly in front of him, and the other one rears too, almost throwing its rider in the process. A girl, the same who must have shouted.
"What do you mean, nearly running me over?" she shouts as her grey horse finally settles four hooves on the ground. "You should be more – Your Majesty!"
Caspian's barely had time to grasp that he nearly ran into another horse and rider before the girl is bowing her head and breathlessly apologizing.
"I didn't realize it was you," she gasps, her mouth agape and her eyes horrified.
Caspian finally gets his bearings, and replies quickly. "No, no, I must apologize. You're right, I should have been more aware. I nearly ran you over."
The girl pauses, and a smile plays around the edges of her mouth. "Yes, you did."
Caspian chuckles at her boldness, a welcome shift from her apologetic respectfulness of moments ago. "Once more, my apologies." Caspian pauses, regards the girl before him in puzzlement. "You shouldn't be this far into the forest alone, miss."
"Neither should you, I imagine," she tosses right back at him. Her eyes glitter with playfulness, though she tries to hide it by looking away and running her fingers through her mount's mane. The horse shifts beneath her, breathing hard but not so hard as Destrier.
"I was chasing the stag," Caspian admits. "I saw it only moments ago."
The girl frowns and returns her gaze to him. "What does a king want with the Stag?" There's a strange coldness to her now, something akin to disappointment. Caspian doesn't understand it, but he finds the reason is tumbling from his lips anyway.
"Only peace," he answers honestly. "Peace for a kingdom in sore need of it."
The girl softens, the harsh lines of distrust smoothing from her face. She is mercurial, this strange girl who's alone in the forest. Caspian finds himself wanting to know more about her.
"And what do you wish for, my lady? For you too are in the forest, alone, chasing a fairy tale."
Now the girl looks down, though she doesn't hide her face from him as before. She stares at her hands, threaded through her mount's grey mane, for a moment too long. When she meets his eyes again, the spark in her eyes is a different sort of playfulness than before. There's sadness behind it. "Perhaps I just like chasing fairy tales, Your Highness. I don't have such lofty goals as peace."
Caspian doesn't know what to make of this girl. He's intrigued, even though he should be chasing that stag, chasing the dream of peace so his people can live the lives they fought so hard for. Yet still he finds himself asking for her name, and holding his breath on the hope she'll give it.
"My lady," he says, still utterly confused why he's asking her this at all instead of riding on, "what do they call you?"
Laughing, the girl tips her head to the side, regarding him as if he's a silly schoolboy. At least, that is what he feels like, speaking with her alone in the woods with nothing but their horses for company.
"Never mind that," she says, "you've got to start chasing that stag if you ever wish to catch it." With those words she starts to guide her horse away from him, and he realizes that he's loath to see her leave without at least knowing her name.
"Surely you don't intend to abandon the chase yourself?" Caspian asks, fighting a strange hope that she'll chase the stag with him so they can both receive what they want most.
The girl smiles, a hint of sadness in her features once more. "I think I've chased enough fairy tales for one day."
Caspian starts to say something, he isn't sure what, but she speaks again before he can.
"Besides, it'll be dusk soon, and my family expects me." Then she's urging her horse into a canter, and before Caspian really knows what's exactly just happened he finds himself alone once more in the forest, with Destrier the only living thing in sight.
Then a flash of white, that same elusive stag, up ahead through the trees, and Caspian's off again, wondering if the whole encounter was merely a dream.
(Rose)
Back at home, Rose dismounts with shaky legs and shock numbing the ache in her legs from a hard day's ride. She's sure she just met the king himself, Caspian the Tenth. She recognized him from his pass through Beruna years ago, and now she's spoken with the king. It's a strange thing, and it should mean little to her.
He wasn't at all how she expected royalty to be.
Rose recalls that little half-smile of his as she brushes the dirt and grime from Mia. He nearly ran her over, the prick, but he did apologize and then he got a gentler sort of look after all that, as he asked for her name and all but told her he didn't want her to go. Strange indeed, and even stranger are the tingles in her stomach. Surely this is all normal when one meets royalty, never mind the prince one saw ride through one's town for his victory march. The same prince who indirectly returned her brother to her, sent him home from the horrid bridge work Miraz had ordered.
Rose shakes off the unsettling feelings as best she can, finishes taking care of Mia, and heads inside. She wants to spend time with Medias tonight, and she's about to be late for supper.
"There you are, little bird!" Medias thunders as she scoots in the door, well past dusk. "Tell me, why are you always late?"
Rose shrugs, hoping he won't see the blush dancing across her cheeks. "No reason, I suppose. Perhaps I just have a horrid sense of time."
"And time makes your cheeks flame? Come on, little bird, what was it today?" Medias grins at her, making Rose wish he didn't know her so well. He's been teasing her more of late, and all over that silly Arten. He's just a friend, the blacksmith's son, but Medias is determined to see her married off before he settles down himself. Some nonsense like seeing her taken care of first, never mind how many times she's tried to tell him she can take care of her own self.
Against her will, Rose finds her traitorous mouth is blurting out the day's encounter, the words bubbling out even though she wants to say none of them. "I just met someone under some peculiar circumstances today," she says, the sentence feeling more akin to a beginning than an end. "That's all."
"Peculiar circumstances?" calls her mother from the kitchen. "What ever do you mean?"
"Quiet, woman, lest you indulge her silly fantasies!"
Rose stiffens at once at her father's growl. He's been scarce of late, always consumed in weaseling himself into the good graces of town's mayor. Tonight he's home early, unfortunately for his children. Medias always ends up in some sort of row with him, and it's often over Rose. Medias wants to see Rose married off but in love, and their father wants a marriage of advantage, preferably to the mayor's son. Never mind that Rose doesn't care one whit for the arrogant prig, the same boy who'd taken delight in torturing her for years in school for enjoying stories of magic.
And now Medias is ready to start another fight, his mouth opening on angry words that are sure to end in shouts and perhaps an overturned table or two. Rose lays a hand on his arm and shakes her head, willing him to avoid this tonight.
"It's not worth it," she whispers to him, her hand tight on his forearm.
"How is the mayor, father?" she calls, as pleasantly as she is able. She knows it'll end in another attempt to get her to see the mayor's son, but better to sit silently and listen to that than hear her brother shouting with her father again. Medias means well, but it grates on Rose when he tries to fight her battles for her.
Medias frowns down at her, but he closes his mouth anyway.
"That fool seems to be coming around. Though now you ask, have you spoken with Leo? You know that boy could be fond of you if you made the effort. I can't be relied upon to improve this family single-handedly, you know."
Rose grits her teeth, as does Medias, but she answers before he can. "Yes Father, I know."
"Then best do something about it, hm? Daughters are only good for so much."
"Do leave that subject for another time, it's unfit for our dinner table." Rose is flooded with relief at her mother's interjection, even though she knows it may do no good.
Of course, it doesn't. When her father is in the middle of a particularly long-winded rant about the family's position, Medias turns to her and asks what sort of peculiar circumstances, clearly in need of the distraction to keep himself in check. His temper can rival Father's, and it's not a good thing.
"In the forest," she whispers back, trying to seem unassuming so Father won't notice. "I think I met the king."
Medias's eyes widen, surprise and mischief merging into one. "Fancy that, little bird. You, ensnaring royalty."
Rose scrunches her nose and kicks him under the table.
When dinner is through, Father heads off to the tavern, as he's taken to doing lately. The mayor frequents the tavern, corrupt mutt that he is. Rose and her mother pretend to wish Father a pleasant evening, but it's a relief to have him out of the house. Rose will never quite understand how that union came about, her father and her mother, but she's quite determined to have nothing like it.
And of course, once Father is well and truly gone for the night, Medias and Mother want to know all about her "peculiar encounter," she tells them all about meeting the king of Narnia, alone in the woods. She doesn't say what she was doing, nor what he was doing, but the tale of them both riding through the forest at exactly the same time is intriguing enough on its own. Medias swears not to tease her when he sees how awestruck she really is, but she only believes him a little. Mother, she has to swear to secrecy, for if Father ever found out that'd be the end of her life here in Beruna. But Mother promises easily, and Rose is sure she even enjoys the little subterfuge. Secrets are fun when kept from Father, so long as he doesn't find out.
Rose is holding out hope he won't, and she feels free enough to replay the strange meeting over in her head before she falls asleep.
The king of Narnia. Who'd have thought?
