(no subject)

[called_lioness]

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.

Comments

[the_seafarer]

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

[called_lioness]

"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."

[the_seafarer]

"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.

[called_lioness]

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.

[the_seafarer]

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.

[called_lioness]

"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.

[the_seafarer]

"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."

[called_lioness]

"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."

[the_seafarer]

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."

[called_lioness]

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."

[the_seafarer]

"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.

[called_lioness]

"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?"

[the_seafarer]

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

[called_lioness]

"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."

[the_seafarer]

"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.

[called_lioness]

"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.

[the_seafarer]

"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.

[called_lioness]

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.

[the_seafarer]

"You," he says sternly, sweeping a thumb softly over her cheek, "are distracting me. We're meant to be talking about vows, remember."

[called_lioness]

Her eyes narrow at that and she leans in to kiss him as deeply as she can, forgetting about things like "air" and "breathing" as she does so, letting her hand trail over his side.

And then she pulls away again and says, after taking a breath, rather serenely, "Yes. We are."

[the_seafarer]

He just lies there, stunned, and stares at her, before sitting abruptly up and wrestling her down onto the bed.

"Vows," he repeats, though his breathing is a little uneven.

"Are there any in particular you'd like to use?"

[called_lioness]

"The ones I know of," Lucy answers, laughing as she looks up at him and runs her hand over his shoulder, "are only good til death. Seems inappropriate. You?"

[the_seafarer]

"Nothing specific is coming to mind," he muses, and leans down to press kisses along her throat, "but the ones I remember have that as well."

[called_lioness]

"Oh." Either at the news or the kisses.

Likely, the way her eyes close, at the kisses.

"We'll have to--we'll have to make something up, then," she says firmly, but her breathing's a bit less steady than it was and her hand's continued down his side.

"Told Mary Lennox she could be a flower girl. I'm certain she'll," and Lucy smiles, a little, as she traces her fingers about his hip, "be able to help with garlands."

[the_seafarer]

"Doubtless," he agrees, and laughs into the crook of her shoulder and neck. "Are there any other positions we need filled? We could get them out of the way," sensibly, "before we have to concentrate on vows. And after all," he pushes himself up on one elbow, and looks down at her with a smile.

"What words we choose aren't important. What they mean is the same--that I love you, and against all hope or reason you love me, and that we want to be together, and that I can will you wife and you will call me husband."

He still looks amazed by it all.