hey remember at the end of the last chapter I said see you in another two months? ha.. yeah... lol sorry about the other thirteen. but surprise! I'm not dead. pls enjoy these 6k words of sadness 3
The air tasted bittersweet.
On the surface both the crew and their new passengers were in high spirits, celebrating their success with unabashed joy. A select few of the sailors had hauled out their last casket of ale and were drinking deeply, while others had opted to instead drink directly from the sea. The end of the world, as you can imagine, possessed many fascinating alterations to rules and facts of life as we know them including the possibilities of the sea. Not only was the water good for drinking, not salty nor unclean, but it was as nourishing as a feast they had not known since back on Narnian soil. A sip was akin to their orchard fruit, a cup equally matched with their main courses of meat and pies and garnishes, providing the drinker with enough energy to bound across the deck, drunk on victory.
Only a handful watched on with a sober eye, noting how bizarre the picture before them was, how quickly it had all changed. The rescued citizens, easily identifiable by their ragged clothes and pale skin, crowded the deck in huddles and were repeatedly craning their necks up to the sky. They observed the sun with trepidation, waiting for the moment they believed to be inevitable when it would vanish from sight, their lives thrown into darkness once more. Weaving between them were sailors still dressed in dented armour, the scuffed blades slung at their hips still slick with the memory of battle. Together they sang and laughed and danced with abandon, dismissing the evidence of ruin that lay around them – the deck was littered with debris from the worst of the sea serpents attacks, their mast half chewed and their beloved dragon bowsprit deprived of one eye and his golden snout. Many of the passengers clung towards the railings bordering the ship, laughing it off when they nearly slipped through the broken bits and into the sea, their easy demeanour returned now the water was fresh and evil no longer hummed through their bones.
Eustace, Edmund and Lucy hung to the side, graciously accepting drinks brought to them from others – Edmund and Lucy with the natural grace of born leaders and Eustace, once again a boy, with a flustered, clumsy air – watching the festivities longingly. Often their eyes strayed to the horizon, still so far away and standing firm, knowing it was the period to mark the end of their chapter.
While their eyes strayed away many of those crowded on deck stole glances towards them wondering what would become of them now, but as the possibilities were too many and largely too grim for them to bare, they instead drank more and laughed louder to smother the thoughts buzzing like bees in their brains.
It was a grand testament to how well Caspian ruled over Narnia and the liveliness of the stories many had heard of him when his entrance upon the deck wrought an expectant silence over the crowd. His grim expression straightened spines and lowered drinks, paused dancing and tipped chins in respect. There would once again be time to celebrate when back in Narnia, gathered in Cair Paravel to welcome back their citizens, but for now reality had to settle back upon their heads, drifting serenely down from where it had been tossed up high in excitement.
Slowly, he ascended the steps of the upper deck and stood before the wheel, gazing proudly down at those gathered before him. Amber, her body heavy and head muted, meandered to the side where Lucy, Edmund and Eustace were huddled, unfocused eyes flitting across the sky.
"Narnians." He began. "I welcome our new friends with open arms, and hope you feel safe aboard this ship. Soon we will begin our journey back to Narnia, where you can all be reunited with your families. I promise going forward that the citizens of Doorn, Adra and Felimath will never again be neglected by the kingdom. We will both fight and protect for you fiercely and, as you have seen today, no ocean is considered too large for us to cross, no burden too heavy if it results in your safety and prosperity." He took a deep breath, his eyes turning meaningfully down towards his group of friends before turning to the people again, holding one hand out. "Aslan bestowed a gift upon us this journey. Sensing our upcoming hardships, he returned to us Queen Lucy the Valiant and King Edmund the Just and with them, Eustace Scrubb of Kensington and Amber Blackwill of Dulwich." He paused to swallow the emotion building in his throat. Thinking the bitter truth and speaking it aloud where it cannot be reclaimed were painfully different, as he now realised. "Their help has been invaluable, and I pray that none forget all they did for us here, now that they are to leave Narnia and return to their homeland."
Lucy, though she longed to throw her head dismally onto Edmund's shoulder, held her head high and bit back her tears, allowing the Queen she knew herself to be shine forth. Amber on the other hand had no such reputation to uphold, and let her tears flow freely down her cheeks, passing the brunt of her weight onto the wall behind her while the heaviness of grief threatened to bring her to her knees.
"I hope their lives to be as good and whole as they can possibly be and that no hardship too troublesome to bear befalls them. We have little time to spare so please, if you wish to provide farewells or well wishes, do so now." With a resolute nod Caspian descended the stairs, feeling his stomach jolt out of place with every step.
"Your Majesty."
"Reep." He replied, turning towards the mouse balancing on the railing beside the stairs.
"If I am deserving of such an honour, I would be eternally grateful to Your Majesty if I was permitted to join you all to the world's end. I fear, you see, that an opportunity such as this is to never be seen again." Reepicheep said earnestly, twirling his golden circlet between nervous paws.
"Of course, you must. I don't doubt that they will treasure your presence through such a hard time." Both man and mouse smiled at one another, moving to join their friends where a small crowd of well-wishers had gathered.
When she had first arrived in Narnia, it had taken Amber a whole week to adjust to the ever-present rocking of the ship and its accompanying seasickness. Now, surrounded by sailors and new friends she had grown to love, she found her stomach churning unpleasantly once again. Every wave the ship crested was another jolt in her chest, every well-meaning farewell a stake in her heart. London was no longer a place she considered home, but at the same time Narnia had lost its golden shine.
All those days she had spent in the company of the sun, her head tilted back in an open embrace while the salty air whipped through her hair and kissed her skin, now felt false – a betrayal. The sun never wished to welcome her, but instead use its rays to blind her to the danger that hid in plain sight. Angry tears pricked the corners of her eyes. All she wanted was to feel safe, but once again she was lost, directionless.
The crowd parted with regret. Their last intact longboat swayed innocently on the opposite side of the deck, shuddering with glee as they entered one by one. Before she could step inside, Amber felt a hand grasp at hers suddenly, twisting her body around.
While Caspian had made his speech, and after when a grateful crowd blanketed them from the deck, Marco had watched his friend carefully and wracked his brain for any words to say but came up short every time. All he could see was the distant, haunted look in her eyes and his throat closed up. He had begun to wish that he still had her sketchbook to return to her face to face, but it was already nestled in one of her coat pockets, rescued from her hammock when he was ordered to fetch her clothes after the battle.
Her eyes connected with his hand in hers then raised to meet his gaze. The pair said nothing but came together in a tight embrace, Ambers arms wound tightly around his waist and his arms squeezing her shoulders close. Against her hair Marco prayed to Aslan for her happiness, unaware that she was praying for his too. "Don't forget me." He murmured.
They drew back with regret and smiled sadly. "I couldn't if I tried." Amber replied, giving his hand a final squeeze before stepping away, lowering herself into the longboat beside Lucy despite every bone in her body urging her to stay.
Edmund and Caspian rowed them gently through the water while Lucy waved her final farewell to those still aboard the Dawn Treader; Drinian, Marco, Tavros and Gael stood together at the stern, never taking their eyes off their friends until they were a spec on the horizon.
With one hand Amber cupped her stomach where the spine had pierced her skin and imagined a reality where she hadn't survived. Would she have been given a funeral? If so – where? Maybe her body would be taken back to London presented as an air raid casualty, or would they venture back to Ramandu's Island where she could lay between the hills and be embraced by the land? Her other hand skimmed the water, drifting between white water lilies that floated on the surface in clusters. She took one into her palm and admired how they shimmered in the sunlight. Perhaps Narnian funerals were like that of Vikings – the body in a bed of flowers, released to the sea and burned. It was tempting to ask, certainly, a part of her was annoyed she hadn't already, but her lips stayed resolutely shut.
Eustace stared out towards the horizon where a wave stretched impossibly far in either direction, as tall as a building, never crashing down upon the strip of sand before it but simply rippling in anticipation. "When we go back," He began, frowning, "will we be in the same place?"
"That's what happened before." Lucy answered.
"Like we never even left." Edmund added, scuffing his foot across the floor.
"Do you think we could come back? Like we did this time – through the painting."
Amber's head raised at that, her thoughts finding home in Dulwich once more. "Painting?"
"That's how we ended up here. We fell through a painting in my home."
She swallowed nervously. Something wasn't right – she could feel anxiety growing in her stomach, a wrongness burning away at her insides as if she were merely some paper caught in the unforgiving path of a stray flame.
"Much like yourself, Amber." Caspian said after a period of silence, watching the worry on her face with trepidation.
Their voices faded into the background, a muted buzz permeating her head. She thought back to the conversations she and Lucy had shared over their journey; there was something she was forgetting. Something important. There was a voice in her head yelling the answer, locked behind a door too thick to hear through.
"The painting." She turned to Lucy, her throat unusually dry. "What did it look like?"
Her eyes grew distant, a small smile gracing her lips. "It was beautiful. The sea looked so… endless. It had the Dawn Treader coming up over a wave and the sky had all these pinks and purples and golds…" She trailed off.
The sunset. Her sunset. It wasn't possible for there to be two identical paintings of Narnia in London – it couldn't be. But her painting had found its home in Dulwich, so how did it end up with the Scrubbs?
"What's wrong?" Caspian asked, his hands tightening against the oar in an attempt to stop himself reaching out to take her hand.
"It's the same painting, it has to be. But…" She lay her palms against her forehead, trying to sooth the riot of thoughts in her head. "How could you have gotten it? It was at Dulwich." It belonged to Dulwich – it belonged to her – she added mentally. The others turned to Eustace expectantly.
"Mother said they received it from a gallery. I suppose it could have been Dulwich, I- I'm not sure." He floundered. "They never explained. It was just… there."
A breeze whistled past their boat, raising the hair on her neck, and it clicked.
After the storm, the day after Eustace had been transformed into a dragon, Amber had broached the subject of war with Lucy. She remembered it now, the revelation that came from that conversation, and how she had forced it from her memory almost immediately.
"I know time works differently between Earth and Narnia, but you left London six months before we did."
Six months. Six months in which the painting had travelled from Dulwich to Eustace's spare bedroom.
"Where in London do you live?"
"Dulwich, near the gallery. Do you know it?"
"I do, I always wanted to visit but there was never time. Maybe when it's rebuilt."
"But the gallery was never destroyed?"
"Amber, it was hit by one of the raids last December."
I thought she made a mistake, Amber thought to herself, thinking back to that day. I thought she got confused.
It wasn't possible to discover the exact date of the raid, and a part of her knew she shouldn't wish for the information regardless, but with this revelation came the realization that her time was Narnia was a far cry from coincidence or luck like she had previously believed. Amber sat up straight, jostling with the boat as they beached on the shore.
Dulwich had been her second home, her sanctuary, where the chaos of the world dissipated into the air if only for a brief moment, but it could have also been the death of her. She had visited that painting for three months before it welcomed her inside the gilded frame – so why was that day different? Why not after the first month, or the second? Because my life hadn't been in danger until that day. It felt like the truth the more she swirled the thought around in her head, feeling the reality settle heavily in her stomach. She was brought to Narnia to save her life, and now she was expected to return once more to the gallows.
They exited the boat. Caspian reached down and offered his hand to her. There was no use in stalling, she thought. After all, she had shaken hands with death that very day, felt its cold breath on her flesh. Was that why she was sent here? To experience what dying felt like so she could face her time with dignity? She willed her head to quiet as she accepted Caspian's hand and ascended the beach, trying to concentrate solely on the warmth of his palm and how his fingers fit neatly between her own.
As they passed over the shore, the warmth of the sand cradling the soles of their feet, Amber looked over their shadows that had stretched in the late afternoon light and felt less alone at the sight. After a lifetime of loneliness the five silhouettes beside her own was a comforting sight. A reminder that, whatever happened, she hadn't faced it alone and no matter what became of her in the future there would always be the memories of their journey. She exhaled, a deep and shaky breath warm with anxiety, and tightened her hand against Caspian's.
Though she heard nobody approach, a seventh silhouette joined their stoic line in the sand, twice as broad and with four legs instead of two. "Aslan!" Lucy stuttered to a stop and threw her arms around their new companion.
Amber tried to be afraid. A distant voice inside her head told her to panic – it's a lion, it said, it's dangerous, it hissed – and yet she felt calmer than she had ever been before, the surmounting worries from the past day swept away into the recesses of her mind.
"Welcome children." Aslan said. "You've done very well indeed. You've come so far, and now your journey is at its end." His voice was deep and slow. It reminded her of the sea, the way his words ebbed and flowed like the waves, cradling them in his grasp.
Lucy craned her neck to look at the impossible wave before them. "Is this your country?"
"No, my country lies beyond." As if in response to his words, the wave dipped as if bowing, allowing them to glimpse a cluster of green mountains behind the gurgling water. A lone bird soared around the peaks before sinking low out of their sight.
"Is my father in your country?" Amber turned to Caspian, his gaze locked on the mountains now hidden once more. She squeezed his hand and reluctantly let go as he approached the wave.
"You can only find that out for yourself. You should know that if you continue, there is no return." Caspian stared at the wave until he believed he could see through it and watched as the distant figure of his father waved at him from the cliffs; a greeting – but not an invitation. He thought of how Dark Island used his father against him, his inner worries transformed into blades that cut his skin with their words. He was not a perfect king. There was no such thing… but that didn't mean he couldn't try. Narnia was not incapable of a second Golden Age and, maybe, he could be the one to gift it to them.
His father observed this change in his son and ceased his waving. He bowed, slow and deep, then left in pursuit of the setting sun. The sight, though imagined, comforted Caspian. Far more separated father and son than an expanse of land and water, but the comfort of this closure provided him the strength to turn back towards the beach and sea. Towards the Narnia he now sought to build.
"You're not going?" Edmund asked.
"I can't imagine my father would be proud that I gave up what he died for." His voice caught briefly. "I spent too long wanting what was taken from me but not what was given. I was given a kingdom." Amber smiled reassuringly, lessening his unease, though he could see something darker, more troubled, within her eyes. He took hold of her hand once more and watched as Reepicheep approached Aslan.
"Your eminence." He bowed deeply and removed his circlet with a flourish. "Ever since I can remember I have dreamt of seeing your country. I've had many great adventures in this world, but nothing has dampened that yearning. I know I am hardly worthy but with your permission I would lay down my sword for the joy of seeing your country with my own eyes."
Though logic denied it, Amber watched Aslan smile. "My country was made for noble hearts such as yours. No matter how small their bearers be."
"Nobody could be more deserving." Caspian seconded.
With a heavy heart, she said her goodbyes to Reepicheep beside the others and watched him ascend over the wave and into the land beyond. As he disappeared from view her panic began to rise again, the finality of the situation beginning to dawn on her in earnest. They were at the end now; there was a change in the air and a weight in her stomach. Over the years it had become second nature to her to feel when change was coming, whether it was the end of a nightly raid where her shoulders began to unfurl from over her knees or when she was immersed at Dulwich and a ringing in her ears penetrated her concentrated silence, breaking her trance and encouraging her to leave. As she watched the others, that certainty grew.
"Children." Aslan began.
Lucy took a harsh intake of breath and when she spoke her voice shook with restrained emotion. "This is our last time here, isn't it?"
"You have grown up my dear one. Just like Peter and Susan." He explained. Edmund stole a final look at the Dawn Treader in the distance, a silhouette on the horizon, and tried to marshal in what remained of his strength. Eustace shut his eyes and scrunched his face up tight as if he could ignore their reality by simply not facing it. Amber saw something inside Caspian crumble too. It was in the crease between his eyebrows, smiling as if to encourage them but unable to prevent the downward tilt to his gaze and how he unknowingly tensed his shoulders, bracing for the loss as if it were a physical attack.
Through all of this, Amber's head was in a frenzy. Aslan had not yet addressed her – whether that was a blessing or a curse was yet to be determined – and the offer of England was only presented to Lucy, Edmund and Eustace, no mention of her return at all. Against all hope she knew this did not mean much. It would be too easy to remain in Narnia. Too neat. Every nerve in her body told her to expect the worst, though what that was she wasn't sure. Perhaps Aslan was delaying and she truly would be returning to England where, she was sure of it now, death awaited her at Dulwich, or perhaps she would be spared the pain and instead sent across to Aslan's Country like Reepicheep, isolated but ultimately at peace.
Aslan roared. The wave rippled and split, forming a cave-like arch.
Caspian looked at each of them in turn. "You're the closest thing I have to family." He smiled, putting a hand on Eustace's shoulder. "That includes you Eustace." The boy smiled sheepishly.
"Thank you."
At a distance it could be believed that nothing was amiss, but as Amber stepped closer she saw how their lips trembled with the effort of keeping up a smile and how desperately they clung to one another as they embraced for the final time.
Lucy turned to Amber, her ability to speak no longer intact. Instead Amber threw her arms around the younger girls shoulders, pressing a wet cheek to her wind strewn hair and hoped the action conveyed all the words she was unable to say. "Maybe…" Lucy began. "Maybe we'll see each other again." Amber appreciated the gesture despite the lack of conviction, nodding shakily at her.
"Thank you." Amber whispered. A weight settled behind Lucy's eyes as if she could picture the scene currently playing in her friend's head. She smiled and hugged her once more. Thank you for saving my life. Amber tried to finish her sentence, but she feared she had reached her limit. They let go, Lucy turning to Caspian and Amber hugging both Edmund and Eustace in turn.
Together they entered the divide in the wave and looked back to the beach where Amber, Caspian and Aslan stood watch. Once more Amber reached for Caspian's hand for support, having lost count of how many times she had needed that long ago, but he found himself needing that reassurance more than he thought possible. A reminder that he wasn't alone in this pain. Not yet. She leaned against his shoulder, the ache of saying goodbye too heavy to hold by herself, and in return he brought his other hand to close over their already entwined fingers.
Eustace raised his hand in farewell. Edmund's chest shook as he breathed in. Lucy began to cry softly. The water closed over their head and erased them from view.
For a while they stood and said nothing, watching the water shift back into place. The world seemed quieter now, their absence inspiring a hush over nature.
Aslan broke it with a singular word. "Amber." He said regretfully. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying not to cry. His tone alone told her everything. Caspian, on the other hand, was yet to be deterred.
"Aslan." He struggled to find the words. "With your blessing, I'd…" A pause. "I'd like for her to stay. Here, with me."
"I know, my child. But her world is not done with her yet." Caspian deflated and looked down at Amber, but she didn't meet his gaze. She continued to watch Aslan, her expression unchanged but hesitant, as he roared once more, and the water separated for her.
"Why am I here?" She asked finally. "Why… Why did you bring me here? What… I don't…" Her throat closed up and she began to cry in earnest, the questions piling up behind her lips but unable to escape. What was the point of this? Why didn't you leave me to die in Dulwich? Why was I sent here if I would lose it all in the end? Did you just want to show me everything I could never have?
"I just want to understand." She was confused. If she was being honest with herself, she had been since the moment she entered Narnia but after a while it seemed fruitless to find answers. Her only option was to go along with all the insanity happening around her and she had. With each bizarre revelation she tried to keep collected, clutching her sanity to her chest, pushing her questions and her anxieties to the back of her mind, laughing along when they miraculously didn't die. She brushed it off when they had got kidnapped in Narrowhaven, skipping ahead of death as it nipped at her ankles; on Coriakin's Island she buried her concern with wine and when the storm hit it was used as a means to be busy and helpful, giving her mind no time to idle. Admittedly since the sea serpent her composure had begun to slip but she had yet to start screaming, which she considered an accomplishment. Now there was no reason to pretend she was coping with this, nothing to distract her as reality came crashing down around her. She wanted answers.
"To grow." Aslan replied simply.
"That's it?"
He nodded.
She felt sick. Frustration bubbled, her cheeks turning red with anger. All of the answers to her questions were behind those big brown eyes, she could see it, and all he provided her was ambiguity. She suppressed a yell. Her head had begun to ache with the enormity of her anxiety, but what else could she do? She could beg but he wouldn't relent. His oddly human expression was steadfast. 'To grow' was all she would receive.
"So now what?" She whined. It was childish, she knew that, but it seemed unimportant compared to everything else. "I go back to London and… and I…" Die. That was the word she refused to say but hovered in the quiet, the word she could see reflected back at her in his eyes.
He spoke slowly and purposefully. "Narnia may yet have need of you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "I'll come back?"
"If all is put right."
She nodded. There were no words to convey the relief she felt. Knowing that she was no longer a lamb being led to slaughter was enough to give her strength, as if she had been dragged up from the depths of the ocean and had just taken in her first lungful of air.
It sustained her until she looked at Caspian. There, her courage failed. He was already watching her with a mix of affection and grief, dark eyes shining with unshed tears. What could she possibly say? How did she even begin to thank him for all he had done for her? She swallowed. The words were stubborn, refusing to leave. Instead she threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her head in the crook of his neck, his own hands situated on the small of her back and tangled in her hair.
"I don't want to go." She whispered. It was all she could think to say, the only way to convey her thanks. Narnia had terrified her, she could only hope that eventually she stopped searching for answers for every contradiction the land held to England, and instead accepted it for the bizarre and wonderful place it was despite the danger. If she came back – when she came back – it would be different. There wouldn't be a perilous journey through uncharted waters, there would be castles and festivals and phenomenal creatures, just like in Caspian's stories. The thought of it hurt. After everything she was still scared, still wary, but so immensely desperate to see the world for what it was, to further discover the wonder that shone in Caspian's eyes when he spoke of home. London had never given her that feeling, but there were inklings of it here; she thought back to their travels so far, how easy the comradery was between sailors and citizens in Narrowhaven after the slave traders had been driven out, as if everyone were an old friend. There was wonder in the way nature bloomed brighter and smelled sweeter in the clean air; in the split second in which a river nymph would dive into the ocean and the sunlight sparked off their back. She would spend her life chasing those moments of quiet euphoria. Despite everything, there could be no other choice. She would choose this. She would choose uncertainty. Narnia. Caspian.
"I wish you didn't have to." He said. "I'm so sorry." Sending her back without a fight felt like a betrayal. All the nights he stayed awake thinking and planning as to how she could stay, how he could keep her safe, the belief he had in Aslan to readily accept his request… it was all for nothing. A part of him wondered if this was best. There were no sea serpents in London, at least, he thought there weren't – Amber had neglected to mention otherwise – but the selfish part of his mind was louder, insisting that Narnia was safer. The journey hadn't been easy, but they had made it through, and it wasn't like these excursions were a regular occurrence. Cair Paravel was a haven, he could picture her on the balcony with a palette in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, an easel in front of her as she recreated the landscape on canvas. In his mind he saw her turn and smile at him and his heart ached. One day they could have that. One day they would find peace. His arms drew her impossibly closer. "Promise me you will be safe."
Amber drew back to face him. "I will be." She promised. Looking at him was difficult. She wanted to memorise all the details of him, the straight line of his nose, how his eyes turned up when he smiled, the way his jaw pulsed whenever he wasn't saying something. After a moment her eyebrows creased, a memory of an early conversation rising unbidden in her head. "I never got to draw you." They had agreed on it back when Caspian had first gifted her the sketchbook after sailing away from Narrowhaven, but as the journey unravelled there was never time and the request had slipped from her mind. A sob escaped her throat. I should have made time, she chastised herself, now look at us.
"There will be time." Caspian reassured her, trying to ignore his own regret. "When you're back we…we can go to Brenn and Redhaven," his voice wavered "I can show you Cair Paravel, we could…" The words failed him. There was so much he wanted her to see, the fear that she never would crushing him under its weight.
"It's okay." She pulled him in for another hug. "I'll hold you to all that." One day, she told herself. One day.
The ache in her chest had not lessened. It curled around her heart and made a home and she knew, no matter how long they put off this moment, no matter what they promised each other right now, the pain would not budge. There was no point where their placating whispers for the future would give them the necessary strength to walk away, no way to turn this into a bearable moment. She had to leave before it became too much.
"Goodbye Caspian." She said. His eyes flickered between hers, drinking in the details of her face as if they could render him drunk.
"Goodbye Amber." He replied.
Amber dropped her arms and turned to face the wave, its surface gurgling with anticipation. She took a deep breath and walked until she stood directly in front of the wave. She reached out a hand and passed it through the water, the fine spray misting her face.
"Wait!"
A hand on her elbow. She turned. Caspian nervously looked between her eyes and her lips and took a step forward. "May I kiss you?"
The idea of watching her leave without a lasting memory of her mouth on his was too much. Back on the Dawn Treader he hadn't planned to kiss her but the relief of seeing her alive and well was too colossal for him to hold back and since then his gaze had strayed to her lips more times than he would care to admit. He wouldn't forgive himself if he neglected the opportunity in front of him now, to showcase his feelings and pray it was enough to get them both through the challenging time ahead.
Amber smiled sadly. "Make it a good one." He cradled her head between his hands and lowered his head to hers, trying to memorise how perfectly her jaw fit within his palms as he slanted his mouth over hers. Amber fisted the fabric at his waist and pulled him closer, letting out a quiet sigh when his right hand left her hair to settle against her hip. They pulled apart for a breath before she raised herself onto her toes and kissed him again, brief this time, but with enough pressure to convey what she wanted to say. I'll come back to you. I promise.
They separated. Caspian rested his forehead against hers, catching his breath. "I'll wait for you." He murmured.
Amber nodded, too afraid to say anything more. With a strength she didn't know she possessed, she stepped away and readied herself to leave, watching as Caspian took her hand in both of his and pressed a kiss to the back of it, slipping something into her palm in the process before letting it fall back to her side. She didn't dare look at it now. Not yet.
There were only three steps separating her from London now. The thought terrified her. I've been through worse, she thought to herself, but this was uncharted territory. The answer to her obstacles in Narnia at least were simple: Swing your sword and hope for the best. What awaited her back home, if not a fatal raid, was a mystery.
She slipped beneath the arch of water and waited for it to fall around her, her apprehension growing by the second. Aslan stepped up before her. "How do I get through this?" She asked him weakly, her hands squeezing whatever Caspian had gifted her until it hurt.
"With courage, dear one." Aslan replied.
The water closed over her head.
Her final memory of Narnia was Caspian, barely visible through the arcs of water, just as his expression began to collapse.
