called_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

Susan's nagging her.

Well, not nagging, Lucy admits as she climbs out of the bath and grabs her robe. Not nagging, but asking questions, like "rings" and "dress" and "WHEN are you getting married, Lu?" and Lucy's rather decided she should probably find out the answer to at least some of those questions.

So, she decides as she slips on nightgown and finger-combs through wet hair, she will just have to, when Caspian returns.

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"Adam did offer," she admits, "but I'm not certain that's a wise decision. And I'd rather have him do something else instead."

She looks a little sheepish as she says that, as she's already asked Adam to do something else.

"It's important," Lucy says, finally. "Do you think--do you think Aslan might?"

Caspian looks across the room at the admittedly very uninteresting wall, and shakes his head.

"I don't know," he admits. "If he were here--but we couldn't just expect him to be here."

A small smile.

"He's not a tame Lion."

"No, not tame."

And she smiles as she says it.

"But we could ask."

"Aye," he says, and reaches out for her hand to twine their fingers together, smiling back.

"We could."

"Then we will," she says, simply.

And then winces, a little, at the thought of Adam and Aslan meeting.

"Er. I--asked Adam to give me away."

"Ah," Caspian says, uselessly, after attempting to come up with something better and failing miserably.

"Well. That's good, then."

She sighs, a little, and rubs at her eyes.

"I don't understand why you don't like him," she says, finally.

"I'm sorry," he says, and it's simple, and he offers no explanation.

"He's kind to me," she says, finally, "and dear and I'd like him to be the one to do it. If my father were here, I'd ask him, but he's not."

"You haven't any need to explain it," he says, and it's a little flat.

"It is your choice, and I'm glad you chose him." And maybe there's just the edge of finality to his tone, a desire for the subject to be changed.

And Lucy just looks at him and says nothing, because--

Because, really, she having a hard time reconciling his tone with his words.

And because she doesn't know what to say, and part of her wants to says she's sorry that Adam still matters.

Caspian might say it is impossible for him not to matter.

Instead, he says nothing, and looks away.

"I thought I'd ask Peter," he murmurs, low.

"I wish you'd talk to me about it," she might say, but it's very soft, unlike what she does say, next, in a normal tone, which is, "To do what?"

He may not look at her, but one of her hands is gently touching his hair before it pulls back.

"To stand with me," he says, in answer to her question, and to the first smiles slightly, turning to look at her half fondly, half exasperatedly.

"I already feel badly about it," he says. "And I do try."

"I don't want you to feel badly, stupid."

She's a little exasperated herself.

"I just want to understand. And I don't. And I feel badly I asked him now. And I know." There's no exasperation in that. "I do know you try."

Lucy makes a small face, but says, "And that is your choice," firmly, "and I'm certain he'll agree."

He starts to say something, and pauses, and then he is laughing helplessly, forearms on his knees and he falls into it with abandon.

"Oh, no," he says, slightly breathless, when the first spasm has passed. "Listen to us, Lu. We'll never get anywhere like this."

She covers her face with her hands and flops onto her back, groaning good-naturedly before letting her hands fall to her sides.

"All I want," she informs the ceiling, though she likely means for Caspian to hear, "is to marry you. It shouldn't be this difficult."

"Perhaps we can think of other things the other doesn't like, just to make certain we include them," he suggests, falling next to her, still shaking with laughter.

"We'll likely be spending eternity doing that, and never actually get married," she grins and rolls to lie on his stomach, looking down at him.

"I'll have Adam, and you'll have Peter," she says, after a moment, still grinning. "And we'll have garlands and rings both, and ask Aslan to marry us. That only leave, oh, fifty, a hundred more details to decide, doesn't it?"

"Can't someone else handle them?" he asks, helplessly. "What about Susan? She likes that sort of thing, doesn't she?"

"No," but she's grinning and kisses him, briefly. "Or rather, she likes it, but if Susan does it, we're likely to have a wedding more like your last one. And I don't want that." She sits up and scoots next to him, looking down with a very determined look.

She is going to get the details worked out, because, in Lucy's mind, the sooner that's done, the sooner the whole thing can be done with, and she'd rather like to have a husband more than a fiance.

"Vows."

"Vows," he echoes, firmly.

And waits to see if she's going to add anything else.

He's grinning. One hand lifts to run through her hair, resting at the nape of her neck.

"You're not being all that helpful right now, you know," she mock-scolds, even as she grins and bends to kiss his forehead.

And then his mouth, because it's grinning and it's there and she can.

"We should probably have them," she finishes, sternly, except for the smile that's still there.

"I agree. We should certainly have them," he says, reaching up with his other hand to pull her down by the shoulders and kiss her rather more thoroughly. At any rate, he seems distracted, because he stops talking about vows fairly quickly.

She was very determined, she thinks, to have this discussion, but it's rapidly becoming unimportant, compared with how he tastes.

She pulls away finally, and murmurs, "Not fair," as she brushes her fingers through his hair.