A/N: *drumroll* let's get ready to sufferrrrrrr! I promise we'll get a little relief from this pain train soon, but y'all know I love angst too much to let our two lovebirds off easy. We'll also see the war plot start to pick up soon 👀
That being said, I'm sorry to say this is our last chapter for 2021! Personal life is just insanity right now, and next Sunday is the day after Christmas (literally HOW?) so Chapter 30 will go up on Jan 2nd at the usual time. I hope y'all have an amazing holiday season and I will see you in the new year!
Chapter 29 Content Warnings: occasional mention of physical injury and medical treatment
Chapter 29: run around the rules
Addie
The next three days are a lesson in patience and stealth. In some ways, it reminds Addie of the castle - pretending normalcy, obeying enough to avoid suspicion, and sneaking around at odd hours to do as she pleases.
It's not that she wants to sneak, it's that her shoulder hurts a little less every day and Caspian isn't talking and she knows she needs to fix this somehow, doesn't know how, doesn't know much of anything because she can't sleep -
Bedrest means too much time with her thoughts. Bedrest hurts worse than her wound, itches worse than the rash spreading down her back. Better to stay busy and drown the noise in her head under exhaustion.
She can handle exhaustion.
Now that she's on the mend, Caspian's silent morning departures wake her. Addie pretends to be half-asleep, reaches for his warmth, and retreats into the appearance of slumber after Caspian kisses her forehead. He still checks for a fever every morning.
After Caspian leaves, Addie has an hour before Falmus arrives. The faun used to start his watch the moment Caspian left, but those days of late risings trained them both that she'll stay asleep until Falmus' presence wakes her.
During that hour, Addie studies. She recites the herbs she knows and Rainroot's teachings from the previous day - mostly simple poultice or tincture recipes. Rainroot said today she'll learn basic immediate wound care.
When Addie hears Falmus' tip-tapping hooves, she forces a yawn to make her eyes water and greets him sleepily. Falmus was suspicious at first, but he seemed to believe her when she shrugged and said she'd pushed herself too far after all.
"Besides," Addie said, "I'd rather not get you in trouble."
Falmus' ears reddened as he mumbled it was time for breakfast, and Addie smiled despite herself, surprised to find she meant it. Falmus isn't to blame for this babysitting; he shouldn't suffer for her determination.
After Addie takes breakfast with Falmus, Vanus, and Falmus' friends - a talking squirrel, a red-haired faun, a young centaur, and a pair of talking rabbits - Falmus escorts her to Rainroot for her fresh poultice, willow bark tea, and two hours of studying. Addie's made it a point to identify all the sedatives, and she always sniffs the tea before she drinks it.
Rainroot arched an eyebrow the first time she did so. "There is no sleeping draught," the centaur said. "You will make no protest today, yes?"
Addie scraped her teeth over her lower lip and tried to stifle her glare. "I don't have much choice, do I?"
"You may do as you wish," Rainroot said. "So long as you do not disrupt your body's healing."
In her defence, Addie doesn't. Not really.
After finishing the morning with Rainroot, Falmus takes her back to the alcove that passes for her and Caspian's quarters. Addie sleeps as much as she can before Caspian arrives for lunch. She eats her meal dutifully and rests until mid-afternoon.
In the afternoon, Addie explores the How with Falmus. He's pleasant company, and he's eager to share the Narnians' history and legends when Addie asks. Once she gets Falmus talking, he'll keep going for a long while. He tells stories about the murals, the Stone Table, the How's history, and the Narnians' past three centuries of scraping and fighting and surviving with an eagerness far more inviting than words on a page.
After the afternoon's walk and Falmus' stories, Addie spends the two hours before dinner on the ledge with Vanus. Falmus lingers only on the first day. Addie keeps watch with Vanus, enjoys the fresh air, extracts stories of the Narnians' life in the woods when the faun is in a good mood. At dinner hour, Vanus sends her inside.
Addie goes without complaint. After dinner, she helps with the dishes. After the dishes, she sleeps until Caspian returns.
It's a shame; Caspian's body heat is a blessing in the How's chill, but Addie only enjoys it until Caspian falls asleep. He's so exhausted these days that he sleeps soundly.
Then, she does as she wishes.
The first night, she sneaks into the dining cave and grinds the morning gruel until the How's inhabitants wake. It's a relief to work in a kitchen again, however much the familiarity tempts her to worry about the people she left behind.
She tries not to. There's nothing she can do to help the maids now, so it's better not to think of it. Addie washes the dust from her hands and slips into Caspian's arms half an hour before he wakes.
On the second night, Addie finds the stash of supplies from the raids. She picks out a dozen shirts, washes them in icy cave water with lye soap from Rainroot's stash, and feigns innocence at the centaur's questions in the morning.
Tonight, the third night, Addie sneaks into the war room. It's a long way across the How; a wolf catches her in the main cavern and only lets her go after Addie stammers an excuse about relieving herself. She scurries into the tunnel the wolf indicates and waits until the path is clear to creep through the makeshift smithy.
The risk is worth it; inside the war room, Addie finds Caspian's maps. She studies the fresh marks and stones marking army positions (square stones must be for the Telmarine army, and round for the Narnians, because there's a square stone on the castle).
There are twice as many square stones. The Telmarines appear to be marching south, forming a semicircle around the Caspian's forces. Neither Falmus nor Caspian have mentioned the size of the Narnian raiding parties, but it's impossible that the few hundred Narnians in the How are an even match against the full strength of the Telmarine army.
Several Narnian stones lie scattered through the foothills of the Southern Mountains that mark Narnia's border with Archenland. If the Telmarines keep moving west, they'll cut off the Narnians in the south.
Or maybe that's good? Is Caspian planning to let them creep west and then attack from both sides?
Rustling armour and clopping hooves sound from the tunnel.
Addie jerks away from the maps. How is it morning already? Tash's talons, Caspian –
Without another thought, Addie dashes out of the war room and past a towering centaur and satyr.
The centaur calls something after her, but Addie doesn't stop to listen. Manners be damned, she has to get back to bed before Caspian wakes.
When she's close to their alcove, Addie slows to a walk to catch her breath. Her head is throbbing, her shoulder aches, and her chest is heaving – Caspian will know she's been out if he sees her like this.
He probably knows already, but there must be an excuse he'd believe – something about she couldn't sleep, she was bored, thought a walk would do her good. Claiming she was with one of her new acquaintances is out; that's a lie easily discovered.
Technically, claiming she couldn't sleep isn't a lie. Her mind was wide awake trying to think of useful things to do.
Maybe Caspian will understand.
Addie turns into the tunnel branch, and there he is.
She swallows, her legs frozen. Caspian stands tall in the middle of the tunnel, hands clenched in fists and neck corded. His sleep-mussed hair does nothing to soften his glare.
The sight should unnerve her, make her want to scurry away or apologise and promise not to do it again. But Addie straightens her shoulders, ignoring the flash of pain in her wound, and draws herself up to her full height. Never mind that the top of her head barely reaches Caspian's mouth.
He doesn't get to have a monopoly on being angry. He's kept her cooped up for over a week now, fussing and fretting and enough is enough.
Addie curls her lips into a smile. "Good morning," she calls. "On your way to breakfast? Or war council?"
Caspian's jaw clenches. "How many nights?"
Addie narrowly stops herself from saying as many as she wanted. Instead, her smile slips.
"Does it matter?"
With a long-suffering exhale, Caspian walks closer. "How many, Addie?"
Addie watches his approach and stays where she is. "Three."
Caspian halts within arm's reach and reaches for her forehead. Addie pushes his hand away.
"I'm fine."
Caspian seizes her wrist and holds her fast, his eyes darkening. Addie lifts her chin and stares back, because Caspian doesn't need to know how hard her heart is pounding.
"What will it take," Caspian says lowly, "for you to do as I ask?"
When Addie tries to yank free, his grip tightens.
"You're not asking," Addie bites back.
Caspian should know by now she won't be commanded into anything. Was she too pliant at the castle? Did she give him the impression he can order her to bed and she'll simply obey?
A vein ticks in Caspian's forehead. "If I ask, will you listen?"
"I might've," Addie says.
Caspian's gaze sweeps her from head to toe, lingering at her shoulder. "Are you so determined to further injure yourself?"
Addie scowls and twists out of his hold. That's not fair, and it's not true. Healing is all well and good, but she's been feeling better for days and no one lets her do anything.
"I'm healing perfectly well. Even Rainroot says so."
Behind her, the soft pat of paws on stone and dirt sounds at the edge of her hearing. Caspian glances past, and Addie turns to find a badger – Trufflehunter, perhaps? – waiting with his paws clasped.
"Sire, the council?"
Caspian blinks and trades the angry pinch of his eyebrows for the blank, distant look of a prince.
She hates when he does that.
"On my way," Caspian says, before glancing back at her. "Go rest. You must be tired."
He walks away before Addie can reply.
So much the better. If she tried to tell him she isn't tired, he wouldn't have listened anyway.
Addie studies until Falmus arrives half an hour earlier than usual. Caspian must have woken him; the faun's curls stick up at odd angles and his voice comes out raspy as he asks how she's doing.
Honesty tempts her. Before Addie remembers to censor herself, she's sighing and setting her notes aside.
"I've been better. I see Caspian sent you early."
Falmus nods through a yawn. "You really try his patience, don't you?"
Addie's eyebrows jump.
Falmus blinks bleary eyes and only then seems to register what he said. His round cheeks flush red as he stammers an apology.
Addie stops him with an amused agreement that surprises even herself. "No, it's… you're right, I do."
When Falmus recovers from his self-inflicted embarrassment, a tentative smile flickers over his features. "Is it so terrible here?"
Guilt pricks Addie's stomach and churns like an itch. The How is fine, and the Narnians have been mostly welcoming. It's only Caspian's stifling concern that's the problem.
"No," Addie answers quickly. "It's not terrible at all. I just wish I could contribute more. That he'd let me."
Falmus frowns and tips his head to one side. "Contribute? You're injured, and… well, it's not really your war, is it?"
Addie flinches. That stings as much from Falmus as it did from Caspian.
"Isn't it?" she counters. "Everyone I love is a lot safer if Caspian is king."
Falmus hesitates, considering.
Addie fists her good hand, breathes through the lingering bite of otherness, and tries to explain.
"I'm here now, and you – the Narnians, I mean – have enough to worry about without me draining medicine and food and space. I hate being dead weight."
Falmus is shaking his head before she finishes, his curls bouncing over his forehead. "That thinking's getting you nowhere. The faster you heal, the less resources you use - then you can do more and we'll all be glad of it. Especially when…"
Addie stretches a kink from her neck and stands. "When what?"
It's not quite an apology, this look in Falmus' eyes. It's softer, gentler, like he's stating a fact he doesn't think she'll appreciate.
"You're Telmarine," says Falmus. "We all know why Caspian is fighting for us, but aren't your people back at the castle?"
Addie swallows, her throat tight. "All but one."
"Right," Falmus answers in a hurry. "So you trying to help means something, but until that wound heals, you should be resting or you're just making more trouble."
Addie's face heats. Falmus is right up to a point. If she thought they had months left of war, if Miraz's forces weren't closing in already...
They don't have months. The Narnians probably have weeks, and her shoulder won't be properly usable that quickly. She should be doing more, making up for all the trouble she's caused, and if Addie has to thwart Caspian to do that, well, she owes the Narnians that much. They've taken her in and tended her wounds based only on Caspian's word.
She wants to say that to Falmus, to put words to her gratitude for kindness she hasn't earned. The words stick in her throat, buried somewhere beneath the shame and frustration. She has caused some trouble.
Instead, Addie leans against the wall and curls into herself. "You want to be out with the raiding parties, right?"
Falmus nods, brow furrowed.
"It's the same for me," Addie continues. "I really am on the mend, and the better I feel the worse it is sitting around feeling like I'm doing nothing. Does that make sense?"
As young as Falmus appears - sixteen at most, more likely fourteen - his smile carries the weight of someone twice his age.
"Believe me," says the faun. "I know exactly how you feel."
After spending the morning with Rainroot - a few minutes to redress her shoulder, and two hours learning to clean and dress someone else's wound with one hand - and the afternoon with Vanus, Addie excuses herself from the watch before Falmus returns. Vanus lifts his eyebrows and stares until Addie finds it within herself to look sheepish.
"I think I pushed Caspian too far this morning," Addie says, voice low like she's admitting something. "I'd rather not be scolded over dinner."
"Good luck." Vanus turns back to his watch, and Addie scuttles off into the How. After a few days of exploring with Falmus, she knows the layout - including the makeshift cells.
With everyone trickling into the dining cavern, the tunnels are the quietest they'll get during waking hours. It's a golden opportunity and well worth Caspian's frustration if she misses dinner.
That's food for someone else, at least.
Arrus - the first faun she met, with the occasional grey hair sprinkled through his bark-brown beard - stands guard at the end of one of the deepest tunnels, a tributary close to Rainroot's station. Addie passed the tunnel three times before she realised the shadows were flickering, disturbed by a torch a stone's throw around the bend.
"Arrus, isn't it?" Addie clasps both hands over her stomach so it's obvious she's unarmed.
"Yes," says the older faun, sword at his hip and pike pointed to the ceiling. "I am Arrus. And you're Addie."
"That's right." Addie strains for a smile, though Arrus doesn't seem like the sort of person moved by friendliness. "May I speak with Marcos? I'll only be a minute."
Arrus steps aside with nothing but a lifted chin betraying what he thinks.
In the alcove beyond, Marcos lounges among the shadows, the picture of boredom.
"Well, it's about damn time."
"Nice to see you too."
It's not an unpleasant accommodation, even with the low ceiling brushing Addie's head. This makeshift cell could be anyone's sleeping quarters.
"Didn't take you for the gloating type," he says.
"I'm not here to gloat," Addie says. "I need your help."
Marcos outright rolls his eyes. "Again? What'd you do this time, mis-slice a turnip?"
Ever caustic. Addie ignores the barb. "You went to the trouble of saving my life before. So it'd be a waste if I got myself killed in a battle, right?"
Marcos sits straighter, his brow pinched tight. "What?"
Addie turns away, running a finger over the chisel patterns on the wall. "Maybe it's all the same to you now. But I thought I'd ask."
"What battle?"
"Any battle; we'll all be in one eventually." Addie sweeps her eyes from Marcos' tangled light brown hair down to his legs stretched long on the floor. "Well, maybe you won't."
Marcos' upper lip curls up over his teeth. "That prince is a bigger fool than I thought, letting you -"
"Which is why I need your help." Addie leans onto her good shoulder, cool stone soothing the nerves itching under her skin. "I'm not actually keen on dying."
"Could've fooled me."
Addie breathes through her annoyance. What's so wrong about learning to fight and pull her own weight? She's already been shot, for Tash's sake; won't learning to fight again prevent a repeat incident?
"You know how to fight," Addie says. "I don't. So teach me."
Marcos' barking laughter reverberates in the room, building until Addie's ears ring.
When she doesn't laugh along, Marcos sobers.
"You're serious?"
Her silence is answer enough.
Marcos gapes, squinting like he's watching a madwoman approach a cliff.
"You forget about that shoulder? Or the stab wound?"
As if she could; the itching is so bad now it takes all Addie's self-restraint not to scratch her back on the stone like a bear. Addie lifts her right arm up to her hip before the pain spikes through the itching. The one blessing is that the shallow stab wound in her stomach is healing well; Rainroot stopped the poultice there two days ago.
"Shoulder put me back at square one," she says, as evenly as possible through clenched teeth. "I have to use the other arm."
Marcos snorts and rests his head on the wall. "That'll speed the healing."
If she's careful, training shouldn't harm it. What choice does she have? Caspian can't keep her out of battle forever. What if Miraz finds this place?
No, not if.
When Miraz finds this place. Based on Caspian's maps, it's only a matter of time. She may not be a tactician or strategist, but she can read a map.
Marcos leans back, still wearing that infuriating smirk. "And you think I'll help you?"
"Why not? You've been useful before." Addie makes a show of inspecting her cuticles, picking dirt from under her fingernails. "Odds aren't high I'll survive a battle, but a little training would help."
"What does your prince think of this?"
Addie tries not to scowl. Marcos could've at least tried to keep his voice down. Now she has to crouch to murmur, leaning in too close for comfort.
"He doesn't know," Addie whispers. "And he wouldn't like it if he did." She straightens, if only for personal space. "I thought you'd jump at the idea just for that."
However much the words turn her stomach, it's the fastest way to get Marcos to agree.
Marcos stretches his leg and bumps her ankle, mouth twisted into a smirk. "Glad to hear all's well in paradise."
Addie moves her foot out of reach. "Do you want out of this cell or not?"
Marcos hesitates long enough to give himself away. The curve of his shoulders softens in fractions, acceptance slowly overtaking obstinacy.
"You get me into someplace hospitable, I'll train you 'til your good arm falls off."
Triumph springs a smile before Addie can stop it. "Done. No running back to Miraz?"
Marcos scoffs. "I prefer my head attached to my neck. Yours too."
"Good."
It's not a promise, but from Marcos, it's the closest she'll get.
Arrus' stoicism doesn't make for easy conversation. So far, the fauns here are the opposite of their counterparts in Caspian's stories. The old tales spun vivid images of playful creatures more inclined to dancing than battle, creatures of song and jokes and good-natured fun. Stoicism seemed to be the realm of the centaurs.
It seems a shame. But centuries in hiding, slowly dying out and losing friends, probably makes stoics or fighters of anyone.
Addie eases into the tunnel and finds Arrus as stone-faced as before.
"Arrus, what were Caspian's orders? About him?"
The faun straightens his shoulders. "He's not to leave these… accommodations. Soldiers of Miraz cannot be trusted."
"With good reason," Addie admits. "But technically, he deserted."
Arrus' forehead crinkles. "Delivering our location to Miraz could erase the crime."
"I don't disagree, but Marcos doesn't seem to think so." Addie glances back to shadowy cell. In the dark, Marcos is nothing but a silhouette. Addie lowers her voice. "I think he could help us. He trained as a Telmarine soldier, so he knows how they fight."
"As does Prince Caspian," says Arrus. "And unless I misheard, the soldier only agreed to train you."
Damn Marcos and his big mouth.
Addie purses her chapped lips. "Caspian's pretty busy these days. Trust me, if Marcos is out on a sparring field, he'll help anyone who asks. Ego, you know. But to start, he agreed easier if I said just me."
Arrus looks unconvinced.
"I know it's risky," Addie murmurs. "But if he's here taking up space and food, why not make him useful?"
Arrus glances between her and the shadows, his brown eyes sharp and piercing.
Finally, he nods.
"I will speak with Prince Caspian."
Addie smiles wider. "That's all I ask."
Caspian
He lingers in the war room long after the evening council concludes. The raiding parties have returned with many supplies and minimal casualties, the Telmarines have not yet found the How, and every day more Narnians arrive from the south. Caspian has heard nothing from the handful of lords he wrote to, but he didn't expect their support until the current stalemate breaks. While the Narnian raids present an annoyance to Miraz, they won't cripple his forces. The Narnians' greatest weapon is the Telmarines' fear of the forests and legends.
This war is going as well as he could hope. While the Telmarines are encircling his forces, soon they will overextend and Caspian has the numbers to cut them off when they do. That will likely be the Narnians' first real victory. He has no pressing reason to stay here with maps and flickering torches for company.
He lingers at the table.
For a week, Caspian has stayed in this empty room until midnight because Addie is in their alcove and he doesn't trust his patience.
Addie is very, very good at trying his patience. After this morning's display, Caspian thinks she enjoys frustrating him, doing the opposite of what little he asks of her.
Or perhaps they were orders. Addie wasn't wrong that he has taken a more commanding tone with her of late.
What else can he do when she won't take care of herself? Asking her didn't work. At every opportunity, every moment her body allows it, Addie has ignored his concern and Rainroot's advice. Caspian thought she was accepting it, but then this morning -
If he returns to her now, he will not have the patience to be gentle. However infuriating Addie's obstinacy, Caspian still dreams of her body stuck with arrows. It turns his stomach to fight with her when every night he remembers his grief in her absence.
Soon, he must speak with her. Arrus divulged Addie's conversation with Marcos and her idea of putting the soldier to use training the younger, inexperienced Narnians on the sparring fields.
Her bargain that Marcos would train her.
Again, Addie is finding more ways to evade his orders.
Caspian busies himself with everything and nothing until the How is quiet and the war room's torches burn low. Addie must be asleep by now.
He will speak to her in the morning.
When Caspian returns to their alcove, he finds Addie curled atop his cloak. He sighs and folds it over her, brushing off the dust and dirt. Every night he finds Addie shivering with the cloak spread over both their sleeping spots, and every night he wraps her in it.
Does she find it so abhorrent to sleep wrapped in something of his? Is this what Addie's stubbornness has reduced her to?
Caspian usually sleeps on his back, careful not to touch Addie for fear of waking her. Tonight, he lies on his side and takes her into his arms - gently, without jostling her shoulder. Addie makes no complaint, no sleep-addled grumble as she would if she were asleep.
Asleep or not, at least he knows she isn't out finding trouble. For the moment.
Addie's next inhale is deeper, though she doesn't speak. In the dark, Caspian can't say if she's waiting for him to break the silence or if she's as tense as he.
Despite his better judgement, Caspian's mouth betrays him.
"I spoke with Arrus."
Addie's neck stiffens on his arm. "If you won't let me help, the least I can do is make Marcos useful."
Already, that familiar fire is rising in his chest. His jaw tight, Caspian breathes once, twice, before trusting himself to speak.
"Sparring with you is not useful."
With a huff, Addie shifts forward and away, leaving a chill in her absence. "Just watching, then. Once Marcos is on the field, his ego will do the rest. He'll train anyone who asks."
Caspian falls silent, frustration warring with the day's exhaustion.
"This is a war, right?" Addie murmurs. "Everyone has to contribute."
He knows that. Caspian also acutely remembers telling Addie this isn't her fight.
"You will not see any battles," Caspian insists, his tongue dry in his mouth at the thought of her facing down a Telmarine blade. "I won't allow it."
Addie makes no protest when he pulls her close again, but neither does she relax into his touch.
"It might not be up to you," Addie says. "I'd feel better if I knew the basics."
For all the caution in her tone, Addie's words sting between Caspian's ribs like an accusation, the memory of her slipping out of reach flashing through his mind. This is his war, and she's caught in the middle of it.
By Addie's own choices, Caspian reminds himself. He never chose this for her - never wanted this for her. He has done his best to make her safe, and Addie's obstructed him at every turn. He failed to stop her or go back for her in the escape; the least he can do now is protect Addie from any who would harm her.
Including herself.
Caspian grips her hip and works his jaw from side to side. Addie's curves don't hold the same comfort they once did.
Addie leans away, and he lets her.
Her tone sharpens. "I'm a liability right now," Addie snaps, her voice echoing in the small space. "And with my shoulder, I -"
"Yes," Caspian interrupts, not so kindly as he could have. "Your shoulder is still healing. Would you tear it open again? Risk another infection, cripple yourself further?"
Addie moves out of reach and sits up, her eyes glinting burnished gold in the distant torchlight. "Would you have me helpless when your uncle's army bashes in the door?"
Eyes burning with self-imposed fatigue, Caspian sits to face her and fists his hands in the dirt - a desperate grasp for temperance. She'll be helpless anyway.
How will he keep her safe then, amid the chaos of battle?
Caspian's teeth grind together as Addie kneels across from him, as still as a statue.
Perhaps she's right. He will send her into the How's depths with any others who can't fight if the Telmarine army descends on this place. The Narnians can hold off any infantry from within the How, even a cavalry charge. But if Miraz sends the catapults, the onslaught will destroy the How within hours, causing cave-ins and trapping or killing everyone inside.
He can't lead an army and guarantee her safety at every moment. He can't, no matter how much he wishes he could.
Caspian's nails bite into his palms. The last time he assumed Addie would be safe at his side, she broke away. He would be a fool to gamble that fate or Addie's own choices won't drive her directly into harm's way again.
Perhaps only the basics. Only enough to buy her time to run.
If only he could train her himself, to make sure Addie doesn't push herself too far.
He can't; he's needed elsewhere.
"- just watch at first," Addie is saying, her voice softer, though the edge lingers. "I'll go to Rainroot afterwards."
"It needn't be with Marcos," Caspian replies, shaking off the dark cloud around his thoughts. "Falmus is more than capable."
Before he finishes speaking, Addie is shaking her head. "Marcos is the only other Telmarine here. He knows how the soldiers will fight."
The cloud returns, billowing through Caspian's mind like wildfire smoke. The basics of swordplay, of dodging and escaping an attacker, are universal. Telmarine or Narnian styles won't matter.
Does Addie want to spar with Marcos? To have him as a teacher, spend hours sweating with him in the sun?
Addie has told him so little of the escape, Caspian realises. He has swallowed his questions for eight, nine days while Addie recovers. Perhaps that was a mistake.
What happened between them, those two weeks in the forest?
Across the gulf of his rumpled cloak, Addie sits with her spine spear-straight and her chin high. This is important to her, for more reason than making Marcos useful or helping herself.
If only he knew what she's thinking.
Outwardly, Caspian tries to relax his glare, to soften the harsh pinch of his eyebrows and his mouth.
"And if Marcos attempts escape?"
In a friendlier conversation, Addie's huff might have been a laugh. Instead, the sound grates on Caspian's fragile composure.
"In front of several dozen armed Narnians?" Addie says, shaking her head. "He's impulsive, but he's not stupid."
Caspian has no reply. He can only stare between Addie and the packed earthen wall behind her.
He's been harsh with her, yes, though he's tried to be patient. All he has done since he found her is try to keep her alive, to take care of her. Is that so detestable that she seeks Marcos' company after a year of keeping her distance?
Caspian clasps his hands in his lap. Perhaps in his haste to make Addie listen, he pushed her away. But can she blame him, when she's refused to listen to him and to Rainroot at every turn?
Addie shifts, her shoulders softening. "He saved my life, and he knows leading Miraz here would get me killed. So he won't."
The very thought locks his muscles and sends a poisonous wave undulating under his skin. In the escape, it was Marcos who took care of her - who saved her life. Marcos was there, and Caspian was not.
When Caspian finds his voice, it comes out scratchy, gravelled with failed resignation.
"Very well."
If Addie is determined to while away her time with that soldier, then perhaps he should let her.
If Addie's love is the price of keeping her safe now, keeping her alive to make up for how he failed her before, then he will pay it.
Caspian pretends not to see Addie's hand reaching out, nor how quickly she pulls it back. In the painful echo of silence, he's grateful for the shadows heavy around him.
Addie's eyes snap up to his, and Caspian swallows away the tightness in his throat.
"In the escape," she begins, her thumbs drumming on her thighs. "I only left because I…" A sigh, then - "I was a liability to you. A weakness. I don't want to be that again. I'm… I'm trying not to be."
And Marcos is how she accomplishes that?
Caspian clutches his own hands until a knuckle pops. "Ask Rainroot," he says. "She knows your healing regimen. Train with Falmus."
Again, Addie's hand strays into the empty chasm between them.
Again, Caspian pretends not to notice.
Stomach churning, he lies beside his wrinkled cloak and stares at the ceiling - an amalgam of packed dirt and chiselled bedrock, carved out by dwarfs' pickaxes and moles' claws.
The cold space to his left throbs raw at the edge of awareness like an open wound, festering with the promise of fever.
By the time Caspian drifts into an uneasy sleep, Addie still has not joined him.
A/N: So, um, I'm sorry? If it's any consolation, that last scene broke me as I was writing it so consider me suffering right alongside you?
Chapter 30 Preview:
"You came to me because you know I'm your best chance," Marcos murmurs, quiet enough to reach only her ears. "Your prince won't listen, his beasts will just coddle you. Who else do you have but me?" A pause, then, "So let me help."