So… I'm weak. I wrote this in one sitting and it may be my favourite thing from this entire story and I just had to get it up ASAP. (If you're reading this after it's completed then for context: I'm uploading this 5 hours after chapter 15) It's just one scene with a focus on Caspian but I had to get it up. And now, since it's almost 2am, I think I'll sleep.
Following a concise recap by Caspian of the task they were to complete, told in such a clear, calm tone that Amber was especially taken aback by given the contents of the discussion, the Dawn Treader crew gave a reluctant farewell to Ramandu's island and tried not to view their feast as a dead man's last meal.
They returned to the ship in silence. After setting sail for Dark Island to retrieve the final sword, newly joined by Eustace who had been caught up on the new developments by Reepicheep perched on his snout, men strode through the ship with faux confidence, assembling armour, sharpening weapons, and keeping their eyes firmly away from their sinister fate despite the green hand digging claws into their jaws and trying to force their gaze.
Caspian and Edmund prepared in the office and watched Ramandu's Island shrink through the bay windows, the stars in the sky smothered one by one by a thick cloud of grey. When the latter left with Caspian's bequeathed sword, he took a moment to wonder how his simple quest had changed so drastically. He knew bringing peace to Narnia in the first three years of his reign would not mean peace across all lands, or believed the achievement to be eternally binding, but he had hoped for the journey to be one of hope, adventure, and roaring success. Though it hadn't been all bad. After all, he and the crew had rid Narrowhaven of the slave traders, and are in the process of returning their lost citizens, he got to reunite with Edmund and Lucy, and met –
Knock knock.
He smiled, seeing her silhouette through the glass door.
"Come in."
Amber entered with a wary grin and hovered near the door. "I saved you some cake." She held up a small parcel.
"I'm afraid I'm not hungry." He smiled softly and watched her eyebrows raise sceptically, walking further into the room.
"Are you sure? Nothing like a bit of sugar to get you ready for a fight." She unwrapped the cake and waved it under his nose before breaking off a piece for herself.
There was a glint in her eye that he had come to recognise over time.
Caspian sighed and leaned against the table, securing his hands to the edge as to hide the minor tremble that had begun with each inch of the Dark Island's grasp they sunk into. "Should I waste my breath trying to convince you to stay below deck?"
He swiped a finger over the icing, thinking back to Redhaven of the Seven Isles and their deliciously sweet pastries and his heart ached at the thought that he would never be able to show them to her. The creamy religieuse and soft maamouls. But the tulumbas… He knew they would be her favourites, she savoured the meals they adorned with lemon more than any. They could have danced in the village square afterwards to a bard's tune, let the village kids weave flowers into their hair. There was so much for her to see.
Amber smiled and nudged his shoulder. "You could deplete all the oxygen on board and it wouldn't be enough for me to change my mind."
"I thought as much." He nodded, taking a final moment to appreciate the resolve in her eyes. He didn't know if it would be there again. Their march into Dark Island was feeling more final by the second, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet. Not now.
He strode to the wardrobe and removed a wooden box lined in gold, placing it on the table gently.
"What are you doing?" Amber asked.
"I may not be able to stop you from fighting, but I can stop you from fighting without protection." From the box he removed spaulders for her shoulders, vambraces for her forearms and a thick leather tunic, taking the time to run a hand over each inlaid lion and pray that they protect her.
They assembled the armour in silence, the ship uncomfortably quiet without the joyous chatter of the crew sneaking through the walls, now only the creak of nervous steps remained. Caspian wondered briefly if he could lock her in here, safe from harm, but knew it would only be a temporary measure until she took a sword to the handle or achieved another means of escape.
"Do you think this is why we were brought here?" Amber asked as Caspian secured one of the vambraces, referencing the unimaginable evil they were rapidly approaching.
"It seems likely, though I'm still hoping for something beyond this, something happier." Trufflehunter would like her, he thought, and not for the first time.
"Me too." She whispered, drawing back her next words before they could amount to more than a breath, but Caspian noticed regardless.
"What's on your mind?"
Her expression turned unsure, panicked. "I still don't understand why I'm here." Her breathing shuddered suddenly, tears springing into the corners of her eyes as they fixated firmly on a scratch in the table. "I can't tell if I just got lucky, like finding the painting was some competition I stumbled into or or –"
Caspian cradled her face between his hands and caught her eye. "It wasn't luck. I may not know why you were brought here but I can say with certainty that it could have been no one but you." She placed her own hand over one of his own, closing her eyes as a tear traced the length of her cheek before he stopped its progress with his thumb.
He waited, tracing light lines against her cheeks and hoping that the opportunity to do so would arise again in the future, until the crease between her eyebrows smoothed out once more.
"We should go." She whispered, meeting his eyes.
"I'll protect you." He lowered his hands reluctantly, attaching new blades to both their hips and praying for the cold metal to overpower the need to feel her skin again.
"Don't." She responded firmly. "I can handle it, you need to be a King to your men." The reminder was as sharp as a blade. The knowledge that men were counting on him, and those even younger than he, to lead.
He was so tired of leading. So tired of fumbling through meetings with royals and enduring failed courtships with women who couldn't find him beyond the glitter of gold he possessed. He was so tired of pretending he knew what to do and what to say, tired of acting proper, and tired of trying to remember what rest felt like.
He was especially tired of knowing that the stubborn woman in front of him would soon become yet another loss in a long line of them. His family, his freedom, his youth, his friends. They stretched across the horizon in an orderly line and as he gazed across the landscape all he saw were the blank spaces waiting to be filled by even more losses. Even more regrets. How many of them would bare her name?
He took her hand and kissed it gently. Bypassing a silent prayer for her good, long life, would not be one of those regrets. "You deserve a true courtship with an honourable soul. I promise you; you will live to receive it." Tears filled her eyes once more as she flung her arms around his neck and clung tight. His own arms pressed firmly against her back, head buried in her hair as to stop his own tears falling.
I wish it were you, thought Amber.
I wish it were me, thought Caspian.
His affection for her had come in bursts, like a blooming flower that kept stretching its limbs only to curl them back in again when they felt the breeze. She was terribly frustrating at times, though never for reasons he could judge her for, and her resolve was that which strengthened others. With each passing day, each quip and curious thought, every swipe of a sword and step where there should only be stillness, the flower found the courage to unfurl until it blossomed with stunning clarity.
Amber pressed her face impossibly further into the crook of his neck and tried to force every dream she had of Narnia, of Caspian, into the embrace before they tore her heart in two.
The Dawn Treader pressed further into Dark Island's awaiting claws and when they felt the wraith of evil start to scrape itself through their veins, plucking them like harp strings, they let go.
Neither of them strayed far, bodies still close enough to feel the brush of the others unsteady breathing.
Caspian leaned forward the smallest amount and placed another gentle kiss on her forehead before resting his own against the mark of his devotion.
They had stolen all the time they could. Now it was time to face the darkness within.
Stepping back, their eyes latched onto one another with a sorrowful understanding and a simple nod was enough to complete it all. They left the room side by side and paused before the stairs that led to the deck.
There was no option to ignore or delay any further. He had only one choice and it had been carved for him since birth.
He had to be a King.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, rallying his courage into steady hands.
"If you're nervous, what the hell should I be feeling?" Amber muttered from beside him, valiantly attempting to disguise her own fear.
His exhale dissolved into a quick laugh, head dropping down in a quick moment of comfort.
The memories of this, of her, would at least be hard to lose.
They stepped out into the iron night to meet their fate.