As morning creeps over the island, inching its fingers across the sand and the sea to paint it golden, Caspian wakes to the call of a bird. He yawns and blinks slowly to relieve the cloud of lingering drowsiness from his head and follows the path of his arm down to where his hand still holds Amber's. A steady warmth, unrelated to the sun now embracing the island fully, settles contentedly in his stomach while he takes a moment to look over her undeniably messy hair and mouth parted ever so slightly. He slides his hand out from hers reluctantly and stands, looking towards the Dawn Treader silhouetted against the light in the bay then across his docile crew. Limbs thrown wide, tangled blankets and –
Footsteps.
"Edmund!" He nudges the King beside him, dropping naturally into a fighting stance before retrieving his sword and studying the prints. Four times as large as a human's, spread out enough to present the question of giants though Caspian had never known giants to walk with such hazardous, mislaid steps. There were no two clear paths heading on and off the beach, instead pressing into the sand at various angles and overlapping more than they should. Whatever crept among them in the night, he determined, was no lone being.
Around him the crew raise their heads and spark to life at the sight of their Kings prowling with drawn blades, rushing to do the same. Amber comes to slower, her body registering the unsettled atmosphere before her brain can, tensing and trying to fight the urge to open her eyes as the quiet shifting of the crew whispers with fear. She eventually opens her eyes to an empty bed beside her, just like the others behind and around it.
"Where's Lucy? Lucy! LUCY!" At the sound of Edmund's yelling she jolts up and snatches up her sword, following the crew to where they approach the stretch of hedges and noting the footprints with an apprehensive eye.
The fade into grass from sand is littered with more footprints, overlapping and creating a deformed hulk that the crew expand with their own frantic steps heading further into the island. They emerge onto a wide slope of grass, inset with swells of land decorated with thicker swirls of greenery, each with a towering shrub protruding from their centre – equally trimmed with a delicate hand. Land stretches far in front of them, a collection of dips and hills that end with an impressive wall of mountains, though there was no time to admire; the gaping landscape was currently fuelling their panic. It was so quiet. Not a sign of life in sight, just undisturbed nature with few places for a creature – especially a giant, like they suspected – to hide. Whatever took Lucy was stealthy, capable of covering the breadth of their tracks and apparently very skilled at maintaining a garden.
The crew delve further, only the faint whistle of wind and soft tread of their steps audible against their individually racing heartbeats. "Caspian – Lucy's dagger." Edmund cuts at the silence, kneeling to pick up the fallen blade. Caspian moves closer, followed by several crew members, when a spear arcs high over a hedge and embeds itself between the Kings. A swarm of others follow, finding the ground between scuttling feet until they're surrounded by a wide circle of pikes and left to lumber like caged animals in a pen.
"Stop right there or perish." Orders a disembodied voice, a deep croak like that of a bullfrog. Amber grips her sword tighter as she searches for the source, swallowing her fear at the thought of being surrounded.
There. The bristle of leaves on a nearby pillar, the slightest ripple despite the mild air. Unconsciously, she steps forward. Around her the men are tense, waiting for an order or a threat to infect the air once again, shuffling in fretful anticipation. From the corner of his eye, Caspian notes Amber's slow gait and begins to side-step to block her path.
The air fills with screams.
Amber is thrown backwards, her back slamming into one of the swells of grass as the crew members around her are disarmed one by one. Nearby, Caspian fights the hold on his sword only to have it slam into his nose while a second force crumples his legs from beneath him. Edmund jolts back and forth tackling multiple beasts before colliding roughly with Drinian and sending them both to the ground. In mere minutes the group are defenceless and nursing various injuries, limps and cuts and smacks and whacks, internally accepting that leaving Tavros on the Dawn Treader was a big mistake. Their own weapons float in the air, gleaming tips balanced between their eyes.
"What sort of creatures are you?" Caspian demands, scrabbling to his feet.
"Big ones – terrifying!"
"Like tigers!"
"You don't want to mess with us."
"Or what?" Edmund steps up beside Caspian.
"Or I'll claw you to death!" A voice growls, their location marked with a sword waggling more than the rest.
"I'll bite you with my fangs!" Another adds just as the air shifts.
A tenseness that lay across the island like a blanket comes away, a subtle feeling that leaves the crew feeling oddly lighter as if the air had become cleaner. Outlines vague and clear like glass form in the air, becoming more substantial by the second. Colour blooms to show their attackers in stunning clarity.
"You mean squash us with your fat bellies?" Edmund provides.
"Tickle us with your toes?" Caspian adds. They mumble in confusion, eyebrows furrowing but when they turn and see their brethren, the nearest creature to Caspian startles and rolls ungracefully onto the grass.
Nearby, Amber finds the urge to laugh trapped behind a frozen wall of shock, sharp and sudden like a slap across the face. Surrounding her are beings like she could have never imagined – barely reaching the height of her hip are heavily wrinkled old men, faces circled by thick tufts of hair and long beards ranging from ginger, auburn, white, black and grey; though where they should have two feet, there was only one as long as their bodies were tall. The creatures hopped around the space in glee, completely forgetting that they had been threatening people moments ago and acting more like children than their appearance would suggest they should.
In the near distance where the carved hedges make way for flat land, a sprawling mansion appears made of smoothed grey stone and attached to several taller towers topped with merlons, everything lined with thick vines that curl around the many windows and drape over the ledges. From a set of golden doors comes Lucy walking side by side with a decorous man with silver hair and layers of brown robes, all detailed with minuscule images and words in forgotten languages.
At the sight of the man, the small creatures scamper away and fill the air with unruly thumping and cries of "the oppressor!"
"Your majesties." He bows deeply.
"Caspian and Edmund." Lucy introduces. "This is Coriakin, it's his island."
"That's what he thinks!" One of the creatures, seemingly the one in charge, bleats. "You have wronged us, magician."
Coriakin sighs. "I have not wronged you, I made you invisible for your own protection. Now, be gone!" From his pocket he scatters a white powder, sending them into fear fuelled frenzy, tripping over their feet in the rush to get away.
"What was that? And what are they?" Lucy asks.
"Lint, but don't tell them. They used to be dwarves, but their laziness got them cursed. Now I call them dufflepuds." He looks between the Kings. "Please, you must come inside. There is much to be discussed." Caspian nods to Drinian before stepping inside, followed by Edmund, Lucy, Amber, Eustace and Drinian, the latter of which joining after ordering the crew to clear the beach, inform the rest of the men of new developments, and ensure that the dufflepuds are kept a respectable distance away.
They enter an echoing foyer; dominated by a mahogany staircase that stands guarded by pillars carved into the shape of sitting dragons, the detail in their leathery wings and claws - not to mention the jewels set into their eyes - rendering Amber hypnotised. Could I stay here? She thinks absentmindedly. The many arching doorways branching off from the foyer seem to ooze temptation, doors left open just enough to spark intrigue at the flashes of purple light and scales, but the true nature of their contents still hidden away.
Together they ascend to the second floor, admiring how the silver lined skylight fractures the space into golden squares, warming the room until every last trace of fear they felt not even ten minutes ago is melted away. Walking down one of the smaller corridors sees the replacement of the natural light with phoenix shaped wall sconces burning gold, their pools of light providing just enough visibility to see the details of the carpet that muffles their steps, threaded with symbols of moons and stars and nonsensical runes.
Amber sidles ahead to where Caspian walks alone and removes the ribbon of cloth that secured her hair away from her face. "Here." She nudges his arm. "You've got blood in your beard." He takes it gratefully, cleaning the mess from where the hilt of his sword was slammed against his nose. Thankfully, there were no broken bones to be mended.
"I was hoping it would make me seem more intimidating." He jokes quietly, leaning in towards her.
Amber scoffs and covers it with a cough as Drinian shoots her a fleeting glare. "Sorry to say, but it hasn't worked. You're as intimidating as a teddy bear."
Coriakin opens a door indistinguishable from the rest, harbouring the same frame decorated to depict a forest filled with all the mythical beasts you could imagine (Amber's personal favourite being a fairy standing on the head of a badger) and, just like the rest, finished with a lion shaped handle.
The room they enter is horseshoe shaped, with floor to ceiling bookcases running parallel to each other, crammed full of leather-bound tomes that fill the air with the comforting aroma of aged parchment. The curved end of the room was highlighted by two wooden pillars that bowed into an archway which spanned the length of the ceiling to intersect with other pillars set within the room. The small dome was separated from the library by an enchantment, the sunlight filtering from its skylight cut off when it brushed against the pillars, so no natural light penetrated the larger space. Instead, the room was lit by stars. Thousands of them whirling across the bookcases in patches of azure light.
In the centre of the dome lay a table void of contents except a singular scroll. Coriakin strode towards it as the group, each enraptured with a different section of the room, stood distracted by the doorway. Though he'd keep it to himself, Coriakin found their reactions vaguely amusing. Nobody had been to appreciate his home in a decade, it was nice to witness the glassy eyes and open mouths, even if the tour had to be cut short.
He clears his throat and lets the scroll unravel across the length of the floor. What first appears as a simple tapestry, lovingly painted with the same fantastical imagery woven through the entire building, soon blooms into a dimensional map. The ocean, deep and glistening as if they were looking at the real thing, spreads from the centre and covers its surface, picture perfect white clouds settling above out of thin air.
"Here is the source of your troubles." He waves his hand and the scene shifts, spanning the sea like a bird in flight, until a new space appears. "Dark Island. That's where evil lurks." A blackened hand raised from the ground, clawed fingers curled over into a loose fist. Green mist, the same from Narrowhaven, twisting and curling around the shape as a snake would. It seemed anxious. Expectant. Waiting for the next creature to wander into its grasp so it can smother its life, craving their energy as someone isolated for life would crave companionship. It was malicious. And it was alive.
"It can take any form, it can make your darkest dreams come true. It seeks to corrupt all goodness, to steal the light from this world." Coriakin continues.
"How do we stop it?" Lucy asks, the words cast in steel. She stared at the island with grim determination, as did the others – all except Amber and Eustace.
The latter was pointedly ignoring it, choosing to believe that if he couldn't see it then whatever it was, infecting his mind and tapping light fingers on his heart between beats, would no longer affect him. Amber, on the other hand, was desperately trying to channel the determination of the others by observing them. Drinian appeared unphased as ever, crossed arms and hanging back in one of the pillars shadows, but his spine was rigid and his teeth were clenched. Evil was breathing down his neck and through his skin directly into his core just like the rest. Edmund and Caspian both held onto their weapons, reclaimed before entering the mansion, with chins tipped upwards in defiance and eyes alight with conviction.
"You must break its spell." He turns to Edmund. "That sword you carry. There are six others."
"Have you seen them? Did they pass through here?"
"Yes."
"Where were they headed?" Adds Caspian.
"Where I sent them." Coriakin strides across the map and through the projection of Dark Island with ease, collectively unnerving the others. Did he not feel evil's cold hands playing his spine like a piano? Its presence making a home in his veins?
The map shifts again, bringing into view an island twice the size as Dark Island and far more inviting. Dominated by a crudely shaped mountain and sparse patches of nature, it wasn't what most would call an ideal destination but for the seven people staring at it now, there could be nothing better.
"You must follow the blue star to Ramandu's island," An orb, glowing far brighter than any star they had ever seen, hovers above the peak of the island. "there the seven swords must be laid at Aslan's table. Only then can their true magical power be released. But beware, you are all about to be tested. Until you lay down the seventh sword, evil has the upper hand. It will do everything in its power to tempt you." Coriakin turns to each of them in turn. "Be strong. To defeat the darkness out there, you must defeat the darkness inside yourself."
With a wave of his hand he returns the scroll to its table and takes a moment to think. He sighs. "This must have been a stressful morning for you all, I apologise. Please, invite your crew in. I'll lay out breakfast." Unable to speak just yet, Caspian nods and follows him out the door and down into the foyer. The rest follow numbly, trying to shake the unease off as it clung to them like spiderwebs. They silently agreed not to inform the crew just yet, they should have a decent breakfast first.
Drinian strides outside to gather the crew while the rest of the group follow Coriakin into a large dining hall. It was located in the south wing of the mansion, where the building dipped low behind the three floored majesty of its front and allowed an impressively large skylight to dominate the ceiling along with windows against the right wall that offered a panoramic view of the rest of the island.
A table, fit to seat 50, fills the stretch of floor in the centre of the room. Coriakin waves his hands and the high-backed chairs stacked high against the walls float gracefully into position to line each table edge while a red tablecloth unfurls itself across the surface. At the opposite end of the hall sits a large glass cabinet which rattles and lets loose a hoard of tinkling cutlery and silverware which settles on the table dutifully. The group wander around the hall, transfixed.
Amber made her way to the grand fireplace on the wall opposite the windows, both tall and wide enough that those present in the hall could all stand inside it quite comfortably, and watched the lion sculpted in the stone above its opening. Once she knew who he was and began noticing more and more lion imagery on the Dawn Treader, she found herself to be far more comfortable at sea. Like there was a watcher, someone to protect them from harm and to provide ease even in dire moments.
There was none of that now.
She stared into his grey eyes and they stared back, but still evil caressed the inside of her skull with tapered fingers, waiting for the right time to strike like nails scraping chalkboard. Help us, she pleaded. But she was alone.
There's a bang and a sudden influx of voices, the Dawn Treader crew approaching the hall. She could hear them remarking about the grand house and how their luck had miraculously transformed – their unawareness swiftly becoming Amber's most craved desire. As she approaches the table, Caspian drifts into view to pull out a chair and offer it to her. They smile, saying nothing, and sit.
Oversized plates and bowls in the centre of the table fill with food with a pop, the crew cheering at the sight of glistening roast chickens, toppling towers of gooseberries and pitchers of sweet honeyed mead. Sausages and stews and salmon and scallops and scampi and sweetcorn and shrimp and steak and squash and strudel and strawberries– the crew were beside themselves at the sight. Amber bypassed the oozing baked camembert in front of her and snatched a pitcher of wine, filling her goblet to the brim and drinking deeply. From behind her, the fireplace seemed to crackle with disappointment.
She drank more.
There they stayed for hours, the crew indulging themselves until each and every member was bloated and dazed. Marco nibbled the tip of a chocolate covered strawberry, unwilling to abandon the best meal of his life, while Rhince helped Gael with a face of peas on her plate beside Tavros, who had the carcass of an entire boiled chicken before him. Those who had spoken to Coriakin earlier were quieter, still engaging with the others but with less enthusiasm, though the meal certainly helped to dull the dread for a little while.
However, they knew not to ignore it completely. It wasn't something you could avert your eyes to and walk on by, defeating the evil required action. Confrontation. And above all, bravery. Even Eustace was contemplating how to help, though he would never make a show of it like he believed the others to do.
Amber did not share this sentiment.
For hours she drank and drank and drank, and ate, but mostly drank as much as necessary to quiet her thoughts. She hadn't met a problem she couldn't ignore or repress or run from in 20 years and she wasn't going to let one sneak up on her now.
To defeat the darkness out there, you must defeat the darkness inside yourself.
Drink.
You can't ignore this forever.
Drink.
You're trapped.
Drink.
You're disappointing everyone.
Drink. Drink. Drink.
Dinner and dessert did a valiant job of soaking up the wine in her system but ultimately, once the plates were clear and talk of returning to sea had surfaced, she was well and truly drunk. Her brain was mercifully quiet, the hush of evil drowned in a cherry tasting sea, though the vague sense of being watched lingered as it had done the moment she had her first sip.
Coriakin ushered Caspian, Drinian, Lucy and Edmund to a table near the door where he lay out a piece of blank parchment. Amber stood to follow, clutching the edge of her table when her head swam as if the wine had filled her skull and stained her brain red, eyes flicking to the fireplace. The flames danced across Aslan's stone eyes, alight and burning with disappointment, as he seemingly stared at Amber. She turned away quickly and stumbled to the others.
When she reached them, Drinian was recounting their travels and watching as the islands drew themselves on the parchment in perfect detail. She swayed on the spot and blinked sluggishly, too slow to process such a fascinating display of magic and instead just enjoying following the swooping lines with her eyes like she would watch the path of a butterfly in the air. They finished and rolled up the newly crafted map, wishing goodbye to Coriakin, to which he wished them good luck in return, and reluctantly left the mansion.
Walking through the garden proves a difficult task. Though the sun is high and bright in the sky, everything lit with perfect clarity, Amber finds herself unable to avoid the various dips and bumps in the ground. She drifts to the back of the group, deliberating every step.
Caspian removes himself from the crew and places her arm across his shoulder before putting his own around her waist. "How much did you drink?" Her head flops onto his shoulder.
"Not enough." She replies, though it sounds more like 'nur enuf'. He sighs and helps her into a longboat, watching her as she drops her head over the side and dips her hand in the water, her eyes distant and cloudy. The rest of the short journey was spent in the same position, Amber quietly resenting the water while the crew chalked it up to too much excitement in too little time.
Once back on the Dawn Treader Caspian, again supporting a heavily unsteady Amber, begins to make his way across deck.
"Your Majesty." Drinian strides over. "With all due respect, you can't give her special treatment. She should deal with her mistake just like anyone else, with a hammock and a bucket."
"Understood, Captain." He responds simply. It's rare that Drinian is wrong about anything, and this isn't one of those times. This choice was hers to make and hers to learn from. He knew that.
When they finally make their way below deck, Amber breaks the silence. "Caspian." She pauses. What was it I wanted to talk about again? Something green? Unease sneaks through her stomach. She purses her lips. "Was Coriakin a wizard?" She eventually asks, making him laugh and forget their grim journey ahead for a moment.
"If you wish to call him that, I don't think he would object."
"Cool." She whispers, nodding her head heavily as if he'd just presented some astounding theory regarding the universe.
"Come, you need to sleep." They enter the crew's sleeping quarters, currently empty except for Fiedan, though the hammocks are still strung up due to their rush to reach Coriakin's island the previous night.
"Is this one mine?" She points to the top hammock in a column of three, staring at it as if she had never seen anything so fascinating before. Caspian smiles lightly.
"If you want it to be."
Fiedan walks over and nudges Caspian. "Like your women on top, eh Sir?"
"Ha, ha." Caspian laughs drily. "For that you're on maintenance tonight."
"Should've seen that comin'..." He scratches his head and leaves, Amber watching on with a tilted head.
"What was that about?"
Caspian points the hammock below hers. "This one's mine."
"Sorry if I kick you in the face." She mumbles, patting his arm absentmindedly.
"You're far too short to do that." He jokes.
"For that I might just do it on purpose." Caspian shrugs and lies on his own hammock, deciding to have a little bit of fun. It was so easy to forget with her. Forget everything. Being what everybody thought he was. The list was endless and yet it dissolved every time he found himself alone with her, the world felt untouchable in the best way possible.
He watches her face as she glares at the hammock currently hanging level with her eyes. "So how do I…" She gestures noncommittally to the hammock.
"Hmm?"
"Help me, would you?"
"With what?" He says with fake innocence.
"Caspian…"
"A minute ago you were saying you would kick me in the face."
Amber buries her face in her hands and sighs before fixating her still dazed eyes on his, holding his arm where it was folded loosely across his chest. "King Caspian the Tenth, the most humble and gracious ruler of Narnia and saviour of my soul, would you please do the honour of helping me into my hammock?" She says with an abundance of slurring.
"Well when you put it like that…" He stands and laces his hands together for a step. Amber grabs onto a nearby post and steps up, doing a half roll half jump into the hammock. The bed curves down and rolls her sideways, but Caspian reacts instantaneously. He grabs the edge of the hammock and pulls upward, pushing Amber with the other into the centre of the hammock until she's cradled in its protective dip. "Are you alright?" He asks after a moments silence.
"Yep! Thanks." She squeaks, still feeling his hand steady on her hip through the fabric. He slowly steps back to where he can see her face – now tinged pink.
"Sleep well, Amber."
With that he leaves, fighting instinct and gathering his courage to face his men.
There was much to discuss.
A/N: A couple things to note. Firstly, thank you for 1,000 reads! I never expected so many, especially since this story has only been up for two months, but I'm very grateful. Secondly, if you have a moment please comment whether you prefer first person or third person for this story. Currently I'm thinking of having all but one of the future chapters be back to first person but if more readers prefer third, then I'll stick to that format.
Also I promise there's more Amber and Caspian content coming bear with me ok chapter 13 is going to be cute