XL
GRACE
Like the Dawn – The Oh Hellos
The warmth of the sun upon Grace's back was comforting as her hips rolled with the movement of Starlight's walk.
Sitting atop a Talking Horse turned out to be quite pensive; there was no need for thought or action for Starlight took care of directing, following and riding altogether. Grace was merely a participant, wearing the bold blue ribbon openly as she simply tried not to fall off.
It had been a few hours of walking thus far and most of it was spent in silence on her part. King Edmund had trotted ahead to see to the frontmost of the party, ensuring no one needed a break and taking care to share a skin of water he'd packed onto his saddle.
He was right, the journey was slow. With so many creatures upon bare feet, cloves and hooves their movement was sluggish and non-urgent. At this rate it would take a week to reach the West.
At some point in her thought induced coma, Casys had come to walk beside her. He didn't say anything, choosing to simply leave Grace in the state he'd found her in.
The motion offered comfort, Grace supposed, though there was a twinge of annoyance in his observance of her movements. Whilst she'd expected that the King would place her under some kind of watch during the journey, she hadn't realised it would be so blatant.
"Casys," Grace greeted shortly.
"Miss Grace," The Centaur lowered his head respectfully.
"What brings you to this area of the horde," Grace asked, sure that her tone betrayed that she'd already guessed the answer.
Either Casys was pretending or he truly did not pick up on her irritation. He walked with a stiff straight back, the muscles in his arms flexing as they swept minimally at his sides, a habit of all centaurs when they walked, it seemed. It was reminiscent of the action humans had of synchronizing the opposite arm and leg.
"I thought you might prefer some company," Casys answered, "The journey is long, especially with a group so large. One cannot be expected to follow the path silently."
Grace's smile was involuntary, "That's funny coming from you, Casys, considering your sentences are few and far between."
It was not meant as an insult but in the seconds after the words left her mouth, Grace found herself regretting their frankness.
Thankfully, the Centaur returned the comment with a small upturn to his lips, "I speak when I have something to say."
"And you're the wiser one for it," Grace acknowledged, her eyes partially apologetic, "I often find myself in a snag after saying something I shouldn't."
"I've noticed."
Grace took no offense from the blatant response, she had come to expect it of him. Conversation with Casys was always upfront, it was one of his traits that she admired.
"How come you are travelling west?" Grace asked. Her curiosity had peaked at the number of friendly faces amongst the party and she was determined to venture into all of their tales – should they let her.
A kind of fond sheen took over the Centaur's black eyes as he stared into the direction they travelled, "I travel to visit my Tribe."
Grace sat straighter in interest, "Do they live in the Western Wood?"
Casys shook his head, "Just beyond it. Through the Lantern Waste, just before the Western Wild. We live at the border of Narnia's westernmost reaches."
Grace nodded slowly, "Does that make you the guards of the border, then?"
"In a way," Casys confirmed, "But we do not live in constant wariness of our neighbours. There is no animosity between those that live in the Western Wild and those of the Narnian border. We live peacefully."
Grace nodded. She could imagine that no one would dare antagonise a centaur willingly. It would be incredibly stupid on their behalf. Whilst it was true that she and Casys had built a kind of friendship over their forced proximity, Grace could not say the same of any other centaurs in Cair Paravel.
"If you don't mind my asking," Grace began thoughtfully, "What would a regular day look like for you? That is, back when you lived with your Tribe."
The Centaur seemed pleased at her curiosity, "We would tend to our crops and livestock. During my youth, I tended a herd of sheep."
"Sheep?" Grace questioned.
Casys looked at her, eyes honest under the deep set of his brow, "Yes Daughter of Eve, sheep. It was my duty to watch over them from dawn 'til dusk each day."
"Sounds awfully boring."
"It was not," Casys denied, "I found my peace easily there, amongst hills of grass with nothing but the memories and stories of my people to sustain me."
At the mention, Grace perked, "Like the stories you told me when we first met?"
"The very same."
"Lucy told me of another Centaur who told stories on their journey to The North," Grace added, "Do all centaurs tell stories?"
The Centaur replied with a disappointed tone, "Not all, but most. It is a revered custom amongst us."
"It's wonderful," Grace insisted, "I've never seen such storytellers in my world. The way your words seem to carve images into the air," There was a brief pause of her admiration before she continued, "I'm envious of it."
Casys's lips wormed into a gentle smile, "If you are truly envious of me then I'd imagine the Chieftain of my Tribe would stoke something stronger. It is he who has taught the art of storytelling for five and twenty years."
Grace's eyes widened in blue wonder, "That's longer than I have been alive!"
"And I," Casys agreed solemnly.
"Do you think I'll get the chance to see it?" Grace wondered as she thought longingly of the descriptions Lucy had made of campfires and starlight.
Those dreams were dashed, however, when Casys shook his head firmly, "Outsiders are warned to remain off of Centaurian Territory. There are very few who are allowed entry, chief amongst them being our fair Kings and Queens."
At this, Grace visibly deflated, "Oh."
Nothing more was said on the matter, both parties decidedly lost in thoughts of their own as they continued trekking forwards.
It was a shame that Grace would not see the Chieftain of Casys's Tribe in action, she'd dearly hoped to hear the stories of Narnia in the format of which they were born – wild under the open sky.
Perhaps she would request some stories of Casys tonight? Surely there could be no offense since they would not be on Centaurian Lands and he'd already told her of the stories before. Grace did not know what they would venture to keep themselves occupied with otherwise.
What could one do around the warmth of a fireplace but talk and eat? It was moments like this when Grace dearly missed the internet, having a small computer in your back pocket often came in handy when you were bored.
Grace supposed having such a tool at her disposal made her quicken to boredom more easily. As she studied the pensive look of her friend, she wondered at the state of his patience. As Casys had described, he had spent hours upon hours alone with nothing but a herd of sheep and the stories of his people as company.
She could feel it, the patience that came with being forced to wait. It was growing on her. Whilst she still felt the urge to fiddle with a screen Grace found the motion had become less of an itch and more of an absent reflex. Fading ever so slightly under the pressure of time.
Casys seemed to notice her study, for he'd begun to throw sidelong glances in Grace's direction.
It was then Grace noticed that he had not moved on from his position at her side. The equal stride had begun to feel unnerving to her for no matter how Starlight varied in pace, he matched it.
"Are you checking in on me?" Grace asked lightly, feeling a twinge of annoyance at her babysitter and by extension the King who would have ordered his station.
The Centaur made no reply, his face a mask of perfect sincerity as he continued to match Starlight's pace.
Grace sighed, "I promise you there is no need to stick by my side so closely. I don't plan on running away."
"I do not walk at your side for fear of that," Casys replied softly, "It is as I said, I simply wish to keep you company."
Somehow, Grace doubted that was the only reason, "If King Edmund is truly bothered enough to insist you babysit me, I wonder he does not do it himself."
Her Centurian Guard looked at her oddly, "I promise you, his Majesty has not requested my presence at your side."
A singular brow arched on Grace's forehead, "But is that not your job as ordered by His Majesty?"
She pointed lasered eyes at King Edmund, who sat unknowingly upon Phillips back at the front of the group.
"Did his Majesty not tell you?"
Grace tore her eyes from the object of her brooding, "Tell me what?"
The Centaur regarded her oddly, "Your orders were suspended, Grace."
The words clapped against her ears like a wave upon a cliffside. Rough and blaringly loud – too loud for her mind to comprehend.
"Pardon?" Grace asked dumbly.
"The orders were suspended," Casys repeated.
Suspended?
So… she was free?
It was odd, the feeling of light-headedness that overcame her. If Casys were not there to catch her, Grace might have fallen straight backwards off of Starlight's back.
"Woah!" Starlight called back to the duo. She stopped in place, her neck craning with the effort of checking on her rider, "Is everything alright back there?"
Grace nodded, not understanding through the thick mud of her thoughts that Starlight could not see such an action.
"We're fine," Casys returned, using his arms to right Grace on the saddle again.
"Grace?" Starlight insisted, her silvery mane shifting and swaying with the effort to check on her friend.
"I'm ok Starlight," Grace confirmed, "Walk on."
As the steady motion of walking began again, Grace found herself gripping at the front edge of her saddle to remain upright.
Casys was watching her warily, one hand held in the air halfway between their bodies should she fall again.
Grace returned that look with a somewhat steady gaze, though she was sure the myriad of emotions and thoughts behind it where incomprehensibly thick.
"What does this mean, Casys?" Grace asked.
The Centaur shook his head, "I am not sure what you are asking."
"Does this mean I'm free?" Grace rephrased.
Casys tilted his head thoughtfully, "As free as one can be whilst abiding the laws of Narnia."
"But still, free," Grace persisted.
"Yes, free," Casys confirmed.
The words were almost enough to throw her backwards again. Grace gripped the saddle until her knuckles were translucent, "So if I wanted to run off right now…"
"It would be ill advised to undertake such an action in a land you know so little about," Casys warned solemnly, "But his Majesty, King Edmund the Just would not have justifiable right to detain you unless you were proven to be acting on unsavoury business."
"And he wouldn't be able to maintain my imprisonment without drafting another set of orders," Grace assumed.
The Centaur nodded.
Grace released a deep breath of air. Freedom. True freedom. At last it was hers.
The feeling that seized her mind and her body was unknown to her. Grace felt motionless, stuck in place with indecision. Now that she had her freedom, she had no idea what to do with it.
If anything, the current and the spoon of her mind fought even harder against each other. They fought harder for dominance now that both options were truly available.
It would be hard to deny that the idea of home seemed more appealing. The knowledge Casys passed had given her hope that she dared not to reach for before; knowing that if she did, there was always the chance the King might rescind it.
The sound of hoof beats upon grass broke her from the confines of her thoughts. At some point Phillip had turned around and begun marching back through the travelling party. King Edmund urged the Talking Horse forward, a very concerned expression upon his face.
"Is everything alright?" The King called whilst Phillip caught his breath, "I understand someone fainted."
"I didn't faint," Grace groused.
"All is well your Majesty," Casys replied simultaneously.
King Edmund did not seem convinced as Phillip came to sidle at Grace's left. He twisted to his pack behind the saddle, tugging at the same skin he'd shared at the front of the line.
The skin was offered to her with a small grimace, "Are you sure? You're quite pale Grace."
Grace stared at the object dumbly. She knew it was meant for drinking but did not know how to drink from it. Any idea she could fathom was embarrassing to say the least.
As if he'd read her mind, the King unscrewed the cap and took a swig. He'd made it seem easy, his capable grasp raising the leather like it was a horn in the air. When finished, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and offered it to her again.
"It's not poisoned," he commented.
Grace took it this time, only a small mutter of protest leaving her lips before they closed around the opening. She took a slow sip, then another in earnest. The water was sweet despite the odd smelling container it sat in. Sweet and refreshing.
When she had finished, the skin was passed back to the King. He took another swig before reattaching it to the saddle.
"Thank you," Grace murmured.
"You're welcome," King Edmund replied with a light smile, "Now, tell me, why are we fainting?"
"I didn't-" Grace began, ceasing her attempt at denial once her eyes met with the King's knowing look, "I was taken by surprise is all."
"See a Spectre did you?" Phillip piped from below.
Starlight whipped him with her silvery tail.
"If she had, I wouldn't blame her," King Edmund commented, though he too was smiling in a manner that irritated Grace.
Instead of entertaining the emotion, Grace decided to shut them both up, "Did you suspend my orders?"
Any grin on the King's features gave way to understanding, "Yes. I did."
"That was nice of you," Grace commented lightly, her words teetering with an edge of annoyance.
King Edmund's dark eyes narrowed at her tone, "I could not leave them upon you and take you out of Cair Paravel. The action itself goes against them."
Sense. Why was it always sense which drew from his lips. It was infuriatingly simple and often wore down any objections Grace held.
"Why did you not tell me?" She pressed.
"I was rather busy organising all of this," The King gestured vaguely to the party around them, "I simply did not have the time."
Grace spared a glance to the Narnians around them, most were travelling on foot, their faces bright and pace jovial. Thoughts of returning to their home sustaining them beyond measure despite the effort of the journey.
A feat which Grace was unable to replicate.
She did, however, feel gratitude. Just enough of it towards the dark-haired King to offer her thanks.
He nodded, "You are welcome. I must admit that the action was as much for my benefit as it was for yours."
"I'll try to be less flattered then," Grace quipped, offering a small smile despite the snootiness of her tone.
The King grinned in return, "I don't think you'll be very successful."
Their shared grins faltered as an urgent call came from the back of the line, "Your Majesty!"
Both Phillip and Starlight came to a stop, the motion jolting their riders forwards as they twisted towards the intrusion. They were met with the sight of a small faun careening towards them at top speed, waving a shred of red material in the air.
King Edmund sucked in a short breath, "Someone's injured," At once, he turned to Casys and ordered, "Tell the party to walk on. I will see to the matter and catch up with you."
There was no wait for a response, Phillip nearly spun them both on his back legs in an effort to turn them faster. Then, they both broke off from the party and strode forth towards the small Faun.
Casys gently tugged at her arm, tearing her eyes from the spectacle as he bellowed orders for the group to proceed.
"I hope they're alright," Starlight commented as she walked on, "Aslan knows a broken leg would be disastrous. They'd be sent back to Cair Paravel on a cart."
"Has that ever happened before?" Grace asked, once again throwing a glance backwards.
She could see Phillip, standing dutifully just out of the moving line of travellers, but there was no longer a rider upon his back. King Edmund had disappeared well and truly into the fray. Probably tending to the injured party personally.
"At minimum one on a journey such as this," Casys replied, his tone lit with a touch of worry, "I've not seen one this early on."
"Can you see what's happened Grace?" Starlight asked.
Grace shook her head, "Whomever they are, they're well hidden by the line. I can't see what happened."
"Snakeskins," Starlight cursed, "I was hoping to catch a little of the drama."
Despite herself, Grace laughed, "Is that why you stopped."
"Absolutely."
Grace had to hold in her laughter, for the disapproving look Casys sent her way was sobering. She silently shook her head at him, knowing as well as he did that the Talking Horse did not mean any harm.
As they continued to walk, Casys remained true to his word. Staying at her side and keeping her company. There were very little words shared after that point, even Starlight had fallen silent, electing to focus on the tread of her hooves and the direction of the travelling party.
When the first traces of dusk began to spiral across the sky, the foremost section of the party stopped. All huddled around a wagon of supplies that they began to distribute; tents, food, firewood as well as a list of chores which were handed out equally and fairly.
As Grace held the purple material of her tent close to her chest, she regarded her companion closely. He had refused a tent, claiming that he wished to sleep separately under the stars. To her surprise, many agreed with him. Instead taking simple sleeping bags to ward off the chill.
"It seems you were telling the truth when you said you wanted to keep me company," Grace admitted solemnly under the forgiving light of the afternoon sun, "I'm sorry I doubted you, Casys."
"No offense is taken, Grace," The Centaur returned, "I am only glad to see the long-awaited improvement in your circumstances."
Grace shared a secretive smile with her once-guardian, "Me too."
It was just as the sky turned a deep and moody purple that the party finished their chores.
Grace stood, feet planted in the dirt in front of her tent. It was a near perfect mirror of the sky above it, speckled with flecks of gold that mirrored the stars.
Casys had helped her set it up. Unsurprisingly, he was quite patient with Grace's naïveté in pitching the dark material to the sky. Grace on the other hand had been impatient, so annoyed at her own inexperience that she often huffed and threw mini tantrums when things didn't cooperate as they should.
It didn't fail to escape her notice that the tent was quite big. Large enough to sleep two if needed. The thought of it had Grace on edge, her mind whirring with worries of a new kind.
"It is not the best example of tent pitchery," Casys claimed as he joined her in admiring their work, "But it will not fall in the night and that is what is important."
"No thrashing my tent," Grace elbowed him lightly, "It's the best I could do under the circumstances. There is absolutely no way that a tent this size was made to be set up by two people. I expect to open it and find at east fifteen clowns compacted inside."
The Centaur looked at her oddly, "Clowns?"
Grace opened her mouth to explain, then thought better of it. She didn't feel like explaining to Casys exactly what a Circus was, "Never mind. When are we eating dinner? Or are we supposed to be hunting for that ourselves too?"
"Dinner is usually served around the fire," Casys threw a look in the direction of the closest pit and the littering of Narnian's surrounding it.
As soon as her nose arched in the right direction, Grace could smell it. Though it was not her favourite, the warm aroma of stewed meat and vegetables in broth was enough to make her mouth water.
"Ah, good! You've set up your tent. I was worried you'd have some trouble with it."
"Your Majesty," Casys lowered his head, one arm bent over his chest in the usual respectful manner that centaurs did.
Grace's neck cracked at the speed it swivelled in the King's direction, "When did you get here?"
"About an hour ago," King Edmund grunted as he heaved a sack onto the space next to her tent, "Had to see to the other camps before I came to my own."
Grace could only watch as the Just King easily tugged the sack into position. The noise it made akin to what Grace was sure was a heavy load, however, King Edmund did not seem bothered by it at all.
"How do you like it?"
Grace snapped to attention, "What?"
"The tent," King Edmund prompted, "Will it suit?"
"It's rather big," Grace commented.
The King understood, "It is Susan's. Sorry, it's still a bit dirty at the edges, Lucy took it North with her and there was no time to have it cleaned before our departure."
Grace shook her head, "It's fine, I didn't even notice."
"My Sister always says it's weight is terrible but she's never slept in a more comfortable space," King Edmund explained, hesitating slightly before continuing, "I thought you might find it better than a sleeping bag under the stars."
Grace softened, the pang of gratitude at his thoughtfulness hard to ignore, "It will be. Thank you."
The King grinned triumphantly before returning to his sack of belongings on the forest floor. From its depths a similarly thick square of midnight blue velvet was tugged and placed gingerly on a patch of clean grass.
As if sensing that was the best time to leave, Casys lowered his head and excused himself to wander towards the burning campfire.
Grace stared after the Centaur with wide eyes, was she supposed to go after him?
As King Edmund began unpacking his own tent from the sack, Grace let out a noise of protest, "If your tent is as big as mine then it might be too close."
"Is there something wrong with that?" The King paused his unpacking, his near-black eyes sparkling with the distant dance of the campfire.
Grace stared, caught by his inquisitive gaze and at a loss for what else she could possibly use to object, "There isn't, I suppose. I just thought spacing them might be more structurally stable."
"Well, if that's all your concerned about," King Edmund replied as he reached an arm into the tent-sack again, "Then I'd prefer it that my tent remain here."
"Why?" Grace demanded.
"Because as much as we all would like to claim otherwise, Narnia isn't the safest place at night," King Edmund pulled some rope from the dark confines of the sack which he inspected intensely in the darkness, "Especially not for a Daughter of Eve."
The latter sentence tugged on a thread of incredulity in her mind, "What are you going to do if something happens? Tear through the fabric walls?"
In a moment as swift and easy as breath, the King tugged a handle on his belt. The object gave way easily, making a soft metallic shing as the blade was half unsheathed from its leather holder, "If I have to."
Grace got the distinct impression that he slept with that thing tucked under his pillow, "The poor tents, they look so nice. Seems like such a waste to tear them."
King Edmund turned to look at her, the intensity of his gaze only heightened by the flickering glow of distant flames, "Well if you're that concerned about the material, we could always share."
Grace balked, "No, thank you. I think I'd prefer to just die at the hands of whatever finds me."
The King's serious demeaner broke at her dramatics and he rolled his eyes, "Like it would come to that."
As he continued to work unpacking and sorting the items, Grace watched on, half entranced by the way his calloused fingers expertly organised and half hoping to save the information for later.
It didn't take long for King Edmund to become fed up with being studied, "Was there something you needed? Or perhaps were you wanting to help me pitch this?"
"Oh no," Grace murmured embarrassedly, "I don't think I could even if I tried. I barely managed to get mine up."
The King stood to inspect the dark coloured tent, "Looks fine to me, though your rope needs more tension or they won't withstand heavy winds or rain."
Grace nodded, testing the give on one of the corner ropes with one hand. The King was right, the rope was holding absolutely nothing together. If it didn't blanket her tonight, it would be through sheer luck.
"There's no need to fix it now," King Edmund commented, "Casys assures me there will be no such winds or rain for the next few days."
"Well, I better hope we reach the West before it does come," Grace worried, "I don't think my skills are going to get any better than this."
The King chuckled lightly as he shook his head, "I'll help you set it up tomorrow. Wouldn't want you flying away now, would we?"
Grace shared a small smile of thanks with the King, grateful when he returned again to pottering about with the tent tools on the ground. She made herself comfortable against a nearby stone, all thoughts of food forgotten as she watched him work and tried to commit it to memory.