"Camille..."
"Yes?" Camille's eyes defogged and she turned to look at Gareth, whom she had been talking to a few evenings after she had spoken to Aslan - at this point she remembered it, but only thought it was a dream and nothing more. It was while she was talking to Gareth that she had trailed off mid-thought to take in the marvelous sunset in the west that turned the sky into brilliant shades of orange, purple, red, and pink.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, his large brown eyes surveying her face.
Before Camille could answer, she turned to the sound of Susan approaching them.
"It's about to be dark," Susan said, loudly enough for them to hear despite the fact that she was standing just outside the large, open doors to Cair Paravel and Camille and Gareth were standing together just inside the large courtyard, "and Camille, Peter would like to talk with you before you go to bed!"
A little confused, Camille felt a small blush graze her cheeks and her stomach turn in nervousness, she still wasn't entirely comfortable being around royals, despite the fact that she had been living with them for a few days and they were hardly older than herself.
"Okay!" Camille called back, and added quickly, "Thank you Queen Susan!"
Camille thought she could see Susan shake her head, and she remembered that Susan didn't necessarily like formalities. Then she remembered that Peter didn't really like them either, and she felt her stomach turn again at the thought of having to talk to him soon.
Camille turned her head back around, meaning to look back up at the changing colors in the sky, but the look on Gareth's curious face caught her eye.
Feeling a little frustrated with the knowing look he was giving her, she reluctantly asked, "What is it?"
With a small shake of his head, Gareth looked up at the sky once more before looking back to Camille, "It's nothing," he said, waving her question away, "we should probably go inside - I suspect that the High King will be waiting for you."
Nervously, Camille agreed with the faun and walked back to the castle with him, being careful not to tread on the long, light blue dress she was wearing that day as she crossed the courtyard.
Once they stepped inside the great front doors, which slowly swung closed after they entered, they were greeted by Mae, who turned to Camille.
"The High King wishes to speak with you in the west wing," she said with a small smile on her lips, "I can lead you there if you like."
"Erm," Camille bit her lip, trying to calm her nerves, "I think I can find my way on my own, thanks."
"Are you sure?" Mae asked as Camille began to push past her, earning a look from Gareth as she did.
"Yes," Camille said sharply as she picked up her dress and began to go up the stairs, "I know where it is."
Camille could hear Gareth apologize for her, but she pushed it from her mind as she went up the steps, still trying not to trip on her dress, or over her own feet, or even on thin air (which she sometimes did). She was a little annoyed with Mae for always persisting on helping her everywhere and with everything. In the mornings she was more likely to appreciate Mae when she brought up a new dress and fixed her hair for her, but Camille didn't want much more help than that; she was more than capable of taking care of herself (or so she thought).
Landing on the main floor of the west wing, Camille lowered her dress, but kept a hold of it just in case, and looked all around herself for any sign of the High King. As quietly as she possibly could be in heels, she crossed the open hall and peered through an open doorway.
The room faced the west and was decorated only a little different from Camille's room. Instead of a bed, dresser, vanity, and a wardrobe, it held two large couches that faced each other, two writing desks, and several bookcases that lined most of the walls.
Being able to see the sunset through the windows on the opposite side of the room, Camille carefully stepped in and surveyed the room to make sure it was deserted before crossing over to one of the large windows.
Letting out a small sigh, Camille sat on the inside of the windowsill - which was just large enough and low enough for her to comfortably sit on - and watched the sky turn from dark shades of red to dark shades of purple to dark shades of blue. Camille couldn't deny the beauty of the sunsets in Narnia (or the sunrises, when she saw them), but she still desperately wanted to go back home.
Thinking over the memory of the night when she spoke with Aslan, which she still thought was a dream, she frowned. She hadn't tried to find the room that held Finis simply because she didn't think it existed, nor did she think that, if it did exist, that she would be able to find the room again anyway. She was, however, mostly frustrated because, in believing that talking to Aslan was a dream, she truly believed that there was little to no hope of her returning home.
She sat there at the windowsill long after the sun set behind the far-off mountains in the distance, growing so frustrated and so full of helpless longing that she was very nearly moved to tears before she heard the sound of approaching footfalls.
"Camille?" the sound of Peter's voice startled her, and she flinched, her head snapping up in the same movement.
Camille's face felt heavy, like someone had glued a thick, heavy mask to it when she wasn't paying attention. Putting a hand to the side of her face, she knew that wasn't the case, but her face still felt weighed down. Then she realized that it was her own feelings of hopelessness that made her face feel that way.
She didn't answer him with words, but, unintentionally, with the expression on her face. She fought to force away the frown that had formed on her face, but she couldn't without some kind of a distraction from her thoughts. So, in seeing this, Peter had slowly crossed over to her and offered her his hand.
A little reluctantly, Camille took his hand and let him help her up. She couldn't help but notice that he had a strong, yet gentle grip; it reminded her of how his eyes could be piercing, but as gentle as ever at the same time. He led her over to one of the couches and he sat down beside her, leaving about a foot of distance between them.
"Susan said you wanted to talk to me," Camille said in a small voice, breaking the pressing silence between them.
"Oh," Peter seemed to shift a little as he remembered, "Yes. I was just wanting to tell you that we are considering going looking for Aslan... Well, once Ed and Lucy come back."
Camille looked at him for the first time since he had helped her up from the windowsill, raising a brow slightly, "You are? But I thought that you couldn't go to Aslan... I thought he had to come here."
Peter frowned at this and put a hand to the back of his neck for a moment, "That's normally the case and I can't promise that we'll even find him - or his country, for that matter - but we feel badly that we can't help you ourselves. It's the least we can do."
Camille looked away from him again, thinking. She couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope at the idea, but, at the same time, she didn't want Peter or his siblings to possibly waste time looking for Aslan with very little chance of even finding him or reaching him. The idea of tearing them away from their kingdom to do that for who-knows-how-long didn't settle well with her conscience.
She shook her head without really realizing it and looked back up at him, taking in the unreadable expression on his face, but the sincerity in his blue eyes, "No," she cut across the silence sharply, "No, that's just a..." she trailed off to pick out the right word, but ended up settling on the first word that had come to mind anyway, "a ridiculousidea, Peter. As much as I hate the idea of just waiting, I think that it's a much better idea."
"Are you sure?" Peter began to press, but he was shushed by the look Camille gave him.
Quit making this harder than it already is, she thought before answering, making a very large effort to keep any hint of regret out of her voice as she did, "I'm positive, Peter."
Peter didn't say anything else after that, instead interesting himself in the patterns in the rug on the floor.
"Erm," Camille began awkwardly, "Is that all?"
It took Peter a second to snap back to reality and say, "Yeah, that's all."
"Okay then," Camille said, feeling even more awkward as the seconds passed, "I'm going... to go to bed now."
As she slowly rose from the couch, Peter did as well, saying good night to her as he did. Camille locked eyes with him after he did and felt her face start to flush. To avoid him possibly seeing her face turn red, she broke eye contact and turned to walk toward the door.
Pausing just inside the doorway, she froze to turn back around for a moment. Giving him a small smile, she said, "Good night, Peter," before turning back around and walking quickly out the door.
The more Camille walked, the more she thought over what had just happened and the more she wondered why she felt so awkward around Peter... and the more she wondered why her face had flushed and why it still hadn't cooled down even after she reached her room a couple of minutes later.
Leaning against the inside of her bedroom door, Camille sank down until she was sitting on the ground with her back against it. No, she convinced herself, it didn't mean anything. He was a king and that just made her nervous, that was all.
Author's note: Sorry it's been so long! I got called into work so much this past week it's been just completely ridiculous! The next two-three weeks should be pretty busy too, but I think I can update again in about three-six days time... Anyway, review!