called_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

She doesn't, actually, want to tell him this.

But she is, because--well.

Wives do things like that, she's certain, tell their husbands about magic compasses.

...Maybe. There isn't a book. She rather wishes there were.

But there isn't, and it's been a week, and it's harder to make herself dream apart from the woman she knows is waiting for her, and so she pulls the silver object out of its drawer and sighs as she goes to find her husband.

Lucy supposes the honeymoon had to end sooner or later.

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"Don't envy me this." It's almost sharp, for a moment, before it softens and she repeats, "Not this, Caspian. Not even for Susan."

"Why not?" he asks, almost sadly though he still smiles. "It is the same choice that has always pulled at me. My dreams, however, remain unhelpful."

"Because it means much less peace, whether in waking hours or sleeping," she murmurs and moves her hand to touch his smile.

"And I would have only peace for you, and joy, if the choice were mine."

"Perhaps it has been better for me that the choice has not been yours, then," he says, smiling more at her touch, and kissing the fingers that touch his mouth.

"Peace and joy is our reward, perhaps."

"Aye," she allows, and her own mouth smiles at his kiss, "but I can wish such things for you anyway, in the present, can't I?"

"As I wish them for you," he agrees, moving his hand to cover hers and leaning forward to kiss her gently.

It's soft and slow and when she pulls away it's only enough to lean her forehead against his.

"I do have you, anyway."

"For always," he smiles, putting a hand up to her cheek.

"Then I've more than joy enough," she concludes, simply, and leans into his touch.

He smiles again, kisses her again, and says "I love you," gently, because he does and he never does say it often enough.

"And I love you." Her arms are firm around him as she says it, softly. "Never, ever doubt that."

"I shan't," he says, and kisses the soft skin under her ear, gently. "I wouldn't dare, likely you'd get terribly angry with me, and I shouldn't like that at all."

"I should have to punish you," she says solemnly, and sighs a bit at the kiss. "Tell the twins where you hide your clothing."

"Cruel," he grins. "Besides, you wouldn't want them to cause any trouble in Amy's rooms, would you?"

"I don't know. She's your sister, she might appreciate my evil scheme," she muses and grins back at him.

"She appreciates my having clothes," he points out cheerfully.

"But I suspect she'd appreciate your exasperation, and the mischief, too," she counters, and pulls him closer for a brief kiss. "I'll have to appreciate your lack of clothes enough for everyone, then. Hard lot, mine."

"It isn't," he murmurs against her lips, "as though you have such a terribly hard time with all of that, just by yourself."

"Well," and compasses are utterly forgotten as she traces his mouth with her own before continuing, "it does work out rather nicely for me, your lack of clothing."

"It doesn't work out so badly for me, either," he teases.

"And here I thought you were merely suffering through," she murmurs and locks her hands together behind him to pull him closer.

"I wouldn't want you to think that," smiling as he pulls them both down. "It would be terribly unfair."

"Heaven forbid," she grins and kisses his neck.

"I think, my love, that you should let me reassure myself that you're not suffering, though. Just so I have no doubts and it's fair all around."

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