17. – Hollow Castles and Fast Feet

"He left?" Lucy asked, voice incredulous, and eyes a stormy mix of worry and fury. "Edmund left?"

They were in the audience chamber, where Caspian had been in the middle of organising another line of defence. His head had barely hit his pillow before Trumpkin had pulled him out of bed once more, to reports of the Witch's forces on the move. They had just decided to send griffins out on air-patrols over the affected area, when Lucy had come marching in. In no uncertain terms, she had told everybody to get out, except for Caspian.

He leaned forward in his chair, arms resting on his legs and face a study in blankness as he watched her. She was dressed in travel garb, her bodice made of hard brocade and the skirt slit at the front to allow her to ride freely. She was tight doeskin pants beneath the flowing silk, made for riding long hours. He sought her eyes, relieved to see renewed energy there, and next to no signs of last night's sorrow.

"The guards say he and Goldspear left shortly before dawn. And based on what's going on- I'd say it's rather certain he's going to attempt to bring back another silver apple for you and for Narnia," he told her.

Lucy's eyes narrowed as he spoke. There was something in his tone, that made her think he might have known, or suspected Edmund would do this.

"You knew?"

Caspian sat up straight, rising to a stand, meeting her eyes.

"He told me he would be leaving, yes, but that he would not do it until after you'd left for Cair Paravel. And I had no notion Goldspear might go with him- I thought the unicorn would stay at your side," he admitted the truth. "As for whether I knew he had already left, I was told a short time after their departure."

"And you didn't send anyone after him?" Lucy asked. "Or tried to stop him?"

Caspian kept her gaze a full moment before he answered.

"Do you think I would have been able to?"

Like Caspian, Lucy thought before she answered, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh.

"You wouldn't."

She opened her eyes once more, meeting his again. And something about it changed the atmosphere around them; charged it in a way that had her nerve endings standing to attention. Suddenly the memories and sensations assaulted her, as the nights events flooded her senses.

"Ed wouldn't have let you stop him," she said softly. "He's too loyal to let anyone do so where his family and Narnia is concerned."

Caspian reached out and took her hands. Soft leather gloves covered them, but that did not stop warmth from seeping from her hands to his. Slowly he traced her palms with his fingertips, sending lines of lightning up her arms, and causing a shiver to ripple through her skin. Her lips opened softly, red rising to her cheeks, but she did not look away.

"I would have gone," he said, his voice a quiet rumble, his accent more noticeable than usual. Admitting part of why he had not done anything to stop Edmund from leaving. Telling her how much he wished he was not helpless against what threatened her. Not knowing how to express the way his affection for her had changed since her return to Narnia.

Lucy drew in a breath.

"Once a King or Queen of Narnia…" she whispered, to tell him she understood why he could not. Marvelling at the implications of his actions and trying to contain the confusion blossoming in her chest. Her skin felt tight, as if a thousand tiny flames were dancing beneath it, lit by his touch. "Caspian-"

"Lucy."

Her name was a verbal caress, as he stepped closer to her. She would have stepped back, but found herself unable to, as some unfathomable force pulled her to him. It was all she could do not to step into his arms, and yet, she did not.

"We shouldn't," she told him, somehow managing to keep her voice firm, although her insides shook. "You shouldn't."

"Because no matter how this turns out, you cannot stay?" he asked her, his dark eyes finding hers. Whatever he was feeling, she could not tell, but something burned behind those eyes. "Because Narnia needs us?"

Her mouth dry, Lucy answered him in a whisper.

"Yes."

Caspian's fingertips trailed her cheekbone, coming to rest on that sensitive spot just behind her ear. A thrill ran down her spine in response, and Lucy knew, in her very core, that this was the time to step back. To save them both the pain of whatever they had let loose the evening before. To stop it before it grew in force. Before damage was done, that could never be undone-

And yet she did not.

"I didn't let him go because I thought I couldn't stop him," Caspian told her, accent thick and voice hoarse with repressed emotion. "I didn't want to. The amount of willpower it is taking me to stay here, surrounded by papers and battleplans, to fight for Narnia instead of going after him to make sure he succeeds-"

His fingers slid back further, twisting in her thick auburn locks, tugging at their roots as he fisted his hand in her hair and cupped her jaw with the other, drawing her closer.

"Stay."

It was a demand, not a question, but then it was followed up with a softly spoken "Stay-" and Lucy felt her heart tug.

She closed her eyes.

"I have to go to Cair Paravel," she said, opening them again. "I have training in setting up infirmaries, in organising the physicians, in caring for my people- Our people."

Caspian sighed and although the sigh could have been bitter, it was only filled with quiet knowing accent.

"Once a King or Queen of Narnia," he repeated her earlier words. "Always a king or queen of Narnia."

Lucy's lips tugged up into a melancholic smile.

"It's who we are."

He leaned forward, drawn to the deep love he sensed in her- love for Narnia. Love for his people. Love for Aslan and the world around. The love of life that had always been a part of her and which even now seemed to burn brightly within her.

Her breath caught as his hand on her jaw drew her closer and his other hand slid through her hair, tangling the locks. Her mind screamed at her that she should not let him. That it was cruel to continue whatever it was they had begun that night, that this attraction would only lead to heartbreak and longing, that she would not- And yet fire burst through her blood and made it impossible to think. Impossible to do anything but feel- It was as if embers had lain dormant on the forest floor and were now burning away at the debris below-

She had to stop!

And yet his hands felt right on her, felt warm, and good, and anchoring- And she let him pull her closer, unable to fight it, unable to stop it- And that terrified her just enough that she could finally draw back.

Caspian stilled, as did time.

Slowly Lucy stepped back and Caspian's hands sliding from her, empty as he lowered them to his sides. His eyes smouldering as flames ebbed back into embers. There was a question on his face. His head held high, his posture straight and confident, even now. There was no defensiveness in his stance, no anger or distrust- no outward sign that her decision had hurt him. She could almost see the crown on his head, even though he was not wearing it.

Her chest ached as she met his eyes and slowly shook her head.

His jaw tensed, but he did not look away. And she realised that she had been wrong- Although his posture was open, there was pain in the dark depths of his eyes.

"I should-" She stumbled over the word leave, and her voice broke. "… get going."

Caspian let go of a breath, finally releasing her gaze.

"I'll await your return," was all he said.

And as Lucy left the room, she could feel him standing there, watching her and her heart screamed. And if her eyes watered, she blamed it on the cold and her brisk pace.

.o.O.o.

Edmund leaned into the unicorn's mane as grass and trees sped by them. Wind slashed at his face as cold air tore at his throat and lungs. Never had he ridden so fast and had he not been on a fast driving train, he would not have believed it possible.

Strong smooth galloping strides took Goldspear and the King of Ancient times across the land, hooves turning up the soil on their path.

Goldspear put every bit of concentration into where he placed his feet, for it would not do to fall. Every breath was used to push forth new amounts of force and power. Every jump was executed smoothly, so that the long leaps propelled him forth.

He did not know the King's plan, although he had admitted they were questing for another of the silver apples, but this was Queen Lucy's brother. And so Goldspear trusted him and chose to brave the unknown.

Only when the sun reached zenith above them, did Goldspear slow his stride, stumbling to a halt beside the great river, lowering his head. Flanks heaving heavily and sweat running from his coat, foaming by the saddle Edmund had asked for, he shook his mane.

Edmund dismounted, quickly removing the saddle, and finding cloth to rub the unicorn dry. It would not do for him to catch ill during their trip. As he worked, Goldpear continued walking along the river, Edmund by his side, saddle carried over one shoulder.

"I just need to catch my breath and get a light meal and some water," Goldspear told him. "Nothing too heavy, or it'll upset my stomach when I pick up speed again."

Edmund gave him a worried look.

"If you don't feel up to it, we can walk a while or trot- We're making good speed, but if you fall or run yourself sick-"

Goldspear shook his mane once more and gave a snort.

"I can handle that speed, and if I begin feeling that I cannot, I will lower it, Your Majesty." He turned his head to glance at Edmund. "But speed is of the essence, if we're to save Cair Paravel, and serve your sister in that regard."

Edmund nodded; his jaw clenched.

"Thank you- your loyalty to her brings you honour, you know."

If Edmund had not been watching the unicorn at that very moment, to make sure there was no signs of his eyes glazing over from chill or exhaustion, he might have missed the pang of guilt as Goldspear turned his head away.

"You don't believe you deserve to be called honourable?" Edmund asked.

"I wish you wouldn't, Your Majesty," Goldspear said, lowering his head. "I- I made a mistake, when the Witch began amassing her armies. I was a scout for King Caspian, but- at the first sight of the enemy, I fled. I- I told your sister it was only after I had been wounded, but the truth is, I fled first-"

Edmund listened in silence, as the unicorn told of how he had lost his horn and how Lucy had saved him, when she found him at the badger sett. And when the unicorn was done, there was no pity in his eyes, but there was also no judgement.

"War is a terrible thing, and we all make mistakes," he said.

Goldspear shivered, nostrils flaring with emotion.

"I am a coward, undeserving of my horn. I only hope I will never make the same mistake again- that I can make it up to the King and prove myself worthy of Queen Lucy's trust-" he said softly. "I do believe that I may be able to. That I've started on that path, but-"

Edmund laid a hand on Goldspear's neck, as he laid the saddle back on his now dry back and found an apple in his satchel.

"If you are a coward, then call me a traitor," he said, and at the unicorn's startle, he shrugged in mock carelessness. "When I first came to Narnia, those thousand years ago, I did not know the White Witch for what she was when I first met her. She was in fact the very first being I saw in Narnia, and she can be… hard to resist. I'd like to say she made me sell out my siblings, but the truth is that I was the one who allowed her to make me. I was the one who gave up Lucy's friend, and revealed Aslan's return to her."

Goldspear's eyes were wide with horror now, but also a hunger- A need to know that there was true hope of redemption. So Edmund continued talking.

"Only Aslan's sacrifice on the great stone table set me free from her power, and I made a promise to myself, my siblings, and Aslan, that I would never make vain of that sacrifice and their forgiveness."

The unicorn was silent for a long time.

"They crowned you the Just," he then said. "All legends say that you were the most loyal of kings." The quiet wonder and thoughtfulness in those statements carried the flavour of hope.

Edmund held out the apple to his travel companion.

"We all make mistakes, but they do not define us," he said, as Goldspear accepted the fruit and took it between his teeth. "It is only just we get a chance to fix them. Chew on that for a while, and you'll find I'm right."

And so Goldspear did.

.o.O.o.

"Your Majesty?" Frostmane's voice tore Lucy from her thoughts, and she realised she had been standing motionless for a few minutes. She turned to look at the centaur, giving him and his son an apologetic smile, trying to push away the pain in her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't notice you."

They were in the castle yard, and Lucy had been supposed to oversee the last of the doctors they were bringing saddling up their own mounts, as a stable boy was fetching the one she was supposed to be riding. Apparently, Caspian had ordered them to shuffle some things around, as they had been previously assuming Goldspear would carry her.

Frostmane nodded in understanding.

"There is much to undertake, and only so little time to do it." He motioned Midwinter to step forth, his expression calm, although Lucy thought it looked put on. "My son wishes to speak with you."

Lucy nodded as Midwinter met her eyes. He looked stubborn, which gave her an idea of what he might be wanting to say.

"Your Majesty, you know my father is a shaman, as well as a warrior?" the young centaur boy said, and again, Lucy nodded. "This is a power passed most often from parent to child, and although I have not yet made the journey to become one, I do have some of the skill."

His speech had the ring of something practiced to it, or well thought out.

"I have no doubt of it," Lucy said. "But I cannot bring you with me- the risk of you catching ill is too great."

Midwinter stomped one hoof against the cobbled stones and got a sharp look from his father in return.

"I have to come," he said stubbornly. "I just know it. I keep dreaming that I have to be there, and the stars says so too."

Lucy turned her gaze to Frostmane, who looked begrudgingly back.

"I don't like it," he admitted. "But Mithw- Midwinter does have the fledgling power of a shaman, and the teachings. And it is true that the centaur's bow have been pointing towards the palace of Cair Paravel on the skies at night."

Lucy thought it through. It never did well to ignore the advice of the centaur shamans, who could read the stars, and carried on ancient traditions, passing on history as well as knowledge. It would be as stupid as disregarding weather advice from a sylph.

"You are both decided?" she asked them.

"We are," Midwinter answered firmly, and his father did not protest.

"Very well then," Lucy said, and did not ask if the young centaur had already packed. He was carrying both a slender version of the adult centaurs claymore, and a heavy satchel. Which was really most of what a centaur ever took on a journey.

In that moment, the stable boy returned, bringing up Lucy's horse for the journey.

It was a beautiful mare, in a flaxen colour that shone red and gold in the sun. It was tall, but slenderly built, with a long neck and a wide forehead. Black eyes looked intelligently at Lucy and the mare snorted, throwing her head back in impatience.

"This is Blossom, Majesty," the boy told her, handing over the reins. "She's got a bit of temper that' un, but she's fast and strong, and knows to defend her rider, should anything happen on them roads. She ain't been on any long treks for some years, because she's been in foal some, but we've kept her well exercised."

"Thank you," Lucy said, and meant it. She knew horses from the fifteen years she and her siblings had reigned over Narnia, and this- this was a prime example. She held out her hand for the mare to catch her scent, before sliding her fingers over the soft sleek coat. "She's of the castle's stock then?"

The boy shook his head.

"King's stock this here," was all he said, bowing, and taking off to ready the last of the horses.

Lucy's gaze softened. Of course, it would be one of Caspian's, she thought, once more feeling the tug of heartache. She was doing the right thing, keeping a distance, trying to keep their friendship as nothing more than that. Trying to prevent a train crash already in progress- It would not be fair to either of them if- She barely even understood what was even happening. After all her crying, with all her emotions raw and needing comfort, she had been too surprised by her body's reactions to his kiss and could not think. And after she had tried not to think about it. Not to remember. Not to allow those firebugs to dance around her stomach at the very thought of him, because at the same time, it filled her with terror-

She had wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to stay with him- To spend time with him, to hear him laugh, to comfort him when he needed it- And she knew that whatever else happened, he would be there for her too. He always was, whenever she needed him. He would grab her hand as she stumbled and hold it until she found her feet again… But she could not. Could not be there for him, not the way he really needed, not forever. Even if they somehow found a way to save her, she would be leaving again.

It would all only lead to heartbreak and longing, and she did not think she would be able to survive being parted from Narnia again, not if she allowed her heart to be tangled up in this one specific person. The very idea of the hurt that would bring terrified her beyond words or reason- And Caspian- What would it do to him if they did- If their friendship changed to- She could hardly bear to finish the thought, and so she did not. Women were forever leaving Caspian, whether it be her sister, Susan, or the daughter of the Star. How could Lucy do so too?

No. It was for the best that they simply stayed friends.

She was doing the right thing.

And so she kept telling herself as she rode out from the Castle of the Telmarin Kings, accompanied by a mouse company at foot, scurrying among the horses and scouting to the sides, doctors and physicians of all kinds of Narnians, a young centaur shaman, and a willow dryad on a white stag.

And Caspian watched her leave, standing on the battlements, and felt the castle echo with its newfound hollowness.

.o.O.o.