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[called_lioness]

It's easy to change into her nightgown, and it's easy to wash her face and brush and braid her hair.

And it's easy to get in bed with Caspian, but it's hard that it's so quiet as they do it, and it's hard that she isn't certain if she can put her arms around him, and it's hard enough that instead she rests with her back towards him as she murmurs, "I love you," and pretends she doesn't feel his hand ghost over her hair for a moment as he says the same back.

And it's very, very hard to close her eyes and let go.

---

But she's good at that, by now, too.

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[the_seafarer]

It's bright. Blue light throws itself haphazardly across the polished wood beneath her feet, and the thud and slap of bare feet echoes as men race across the decks, up the rigging, into the clear diamond air, where the rigging stretches like cobwebs over the gleaming white towers behind them. Shouts sound merrily back and forth, and one young man stands at the base of a mast, his hands cupped around his mouth.

"Look alive, there, or the morning tide'll leave without us!"

Nearby sailors nudge each other and grin, white teeth flashing against their tans. The King is young, but he works as hard as any.

[called_lioness]

So he does, and for a few moments Lucy does nothing but watch.

He looks so very young it almost hurts, no sadness or age in his face or eyes.

And it's enough that none of her anger comes with her, not here, and Lucy walks over to him, hands clasped behind her back, and says, matter-of-factly, "I rather think you'll make it."

[the_seafarer]

"Pardon, lady?" he says, startled but not discomfited, and offers her a slight smile.

"Nay, we shan't--the captain is set on our making port at Galma before their bells toll noon tomorrow." His smile is very young, indeed.

"And the captain is a very stubborn man, madam. But, pray, how came you to be on board ship? Surely you have said your goodbyes on shore with the rest of our well-wishers?"

[called_lioness]

"Aye, so I remember him being," she laughs and part of her aches to touch his smile when it's like that.

Instead she just smiles again and says, light as can be, as her hands run over wood that's familiar as a friend and her eyes grow soft, "Mayhap I came to join the crew. I think I'd make a rather good sailor. My brothers assure me I can curse quite as well as any when I've a mind to."

[the_seafarer]

He smiles again, a little more uncertainly, and walks towards her, sea-boots clumping on the wood. Caspian at seventeen is wiry and strong, without the height his son will have, and the familiar eyes, sea-gray and merry with youth.

"I regret to say that the crew is full up, lady," he says, nearing her, "and I fear that nowhere on the Treader would we have accomodations for you. All the same--"

He is standing before her now, his mouth still curved into a smile, though a crease has started between his brows.

"You seem familiar to me."

[called_lioness]

"You'll manage," she murmurs, more to herself than to him, and then looks back at him and smiles a little more, and there's a hint of teasing in it.

She never was the best at giving respect where it was due, not even to a king.

The problem of having your elder brothers for the kings you interact with the most, really.

"How familiar?"

[the_seafarer]

He flushes, violently, though his shoulders straighten.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I don't mean to seem, ah, forward." He slants another half-smile at her as he moves to tighten a knot at the railing. "You made me think of a friend of mine, though you're rather older."

[called_lioness]

"I know."

Her feet pad along the wood of the deck as she goes to tie a knot a bit further on, and then glances over at him and smiles a bit more shyly than she has at him in a long, long time.

"Has time really changed me all that much, Caspian?"

[the_seafarer]

In answer

(and he'd done this, when he saw her in the bar, speaking with the man he would later know as Adam Young)

he grins at her and in a rush his arms are about her waist and he swings her up into the air, laughing, and does not speak until he has set her lightly back on the deck.

"So it is you, Lucy! Where is the little girl I have known?"

[called_lioness]

"Not so very little inside by the time I met you," she laughs with him and her arms have settled around his neck in the most familiar move she knows, and she doesn't drop them yet.

"The outside just matches a little better now," Lucy shrugs, and then grins again. "Where is the boy I came to see, for that matter?"

[the_seafarer]

He grins at her, widely, and if a flush stains his cheek before he gently takes her arms from around his neck, it's hard to see when he turns away.

Still, his hand takes one of hers and he pulls her along the railing, energy and pride radiating from him like sunlight.

"Still here!" he laughs, "though a little more grown-up on the outside. But look, Lucy! She's finished. Isn't she beautiful?"

His eyes travel over the lines of rigging, the gay green and gilt paint, and when he turns to her to see her approval, his other hand rises to take her free one.

[called_lioness]

And she has to laugh, because it's a rare feeling to think her husband seems young and with so little hanging over him.

Even should it have to be before he's her husband.

"Aye," she agrees, "as beautiful a vessel as I've ever seen on this sea or another. And ah." She makes a show of peering at his face before nodding with a mock-serious look. "I think I see him now, that boy. For a moment, I worried."

[the_seafarer]

He ducks his head again and laughs, and drags her along to the prow to point out the details of the dragon's head, and they stand together and look back over the boat with the morning sun gleaming.

"You shouldn't worry," he remarks, leaning back against the railing, and there is a certain satisfaction in his pose, comfortable and easy. "I think you might be able to find the boy anytime you like, Lucy."

He doesn't seem to find it odd that she is alone, that she is older and that she is beautiful. He thinks, perhaps, that this is a dream--after all, he's had this dream before.

[called_lioness]

This is something they'll never have, not awake, and so she's treasuring every moment to never forget.

And for once, Lucy is completely glad she dreams.

"Do you know," she says, leaning with her own arms on the rail and watching him, "I don't know that there's many other things you could say that would make me happier to hear than that?"

[the_seafarer]

"And here I thought I would have to win you with sweet words," he laments, but mischievous eyes flit towards her and his grin is teasing.

"How sad for me that you should so prefer the boy."

[called_lioness]

It's just a dream.

But it's her dream--even if it's his, too--and so Lucy looks over at him after a moment and her smile isn't very teasing.

"I much prefer the man, to be completely honest. I simply like to see the boy in him and the laughter I remember in his eyes."

[the_seafarer]

His smile falters, slightly, at the look in her eyes, and he turns to look back at the bustle with embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

"Will you be setting sail with us, Your Majesty?"

[called_lioness]

She reaches out, absently, as if to brush his hair back before catching herself and stopping, looking back out over the rail.

"If I had my way," and it's rueful, "I would sail the entire way and back, aye. As it is--who knows? Not in the morning, but it should be a long voyage, after all."

[the_seafarer]

"Aye, so it shall," and his eyes burn brighter with the thought of what might be, as he looks over to that far Eastern horizon.

"Long and full of adventure and possibility," he exclaims, as a playful breeze tosses at his curls and at Lucy's hair, setting golden hair glowing. "Only the Lion may tell what we will find, or whether we might perish, as some disbelievers have been saying, but Lucy, I feel it in my very bones that we will succeed."

[called_lioness]

Her smile is fond as she looks over at him, and this time she does smooth his hair a little from the breeze.

"Your bones are very wise, I think." Her hand drops as she leans over the rail, balancing on her stomach with her legs slightly lifted, and looks down, still smiling. "I think you'll do well if you listen to them."

[the_seafarer]

"Well, we shan't be able to make way if a Queen of Narnia topples overboard," he laughs, and turns around to lean on the railing with her, one hand light at the small of her back.

"So be cautious."

[called_lioness]

"I think you'd catch me even if I did," she muses, looking over her shoulder at him.

"But I shall be, if you like." Because she can't make herself say "though it's only a dream, you know," not yet. Even if he knows.

It's nicer to lean over a bit farther and look back at him again with mischief in her face.

"A little, anyway."

[the_seafarer]

Her mischief is reflected in his own face as he turns again to jump up, boosting himself to sit up on the top railing and he grins down at her from his newfound height, balancing precariously with a loose grip on the railing.

"I'd rather you didn't make me go in after you," he admits, "though I would, of course be happy to. Still it seems as though it might be rather a poor ending to your visit."

[called_lioness]

She laughs, and then eyes the rail speculatively.

It's not so very thin, and it's easy enough to boost herself up onto it and then stand, carefully balanced, for a moment or two, and for all Lucy's eyes look older than her face, and her face older than he remembers it, there's pure joy and triumph in them now at something so simple as walking a rail.

"How should it end instead, then, do you think?" she asks as she looks down at him.

[the_seafarer]

He makes a face up at her, squinting into the sun, and Rhince stands amazed at the base of a mast as his King carefully pulls himself up to balance on the railing of the ship as she sways slowly at anchor.

"We could try dancing next," he suggests, after he has carefully stood, "but I think that will end with us both in the water, and as we were trying to avoid that, I find myself out of suggestions."