song for Luna

[suncolors]

☾ And we aren't all that we seem, but we are more than we know.
(Caspian)
☾ Is that who you are? To think we never needed to say hello.
(Caspian)
☾ Man-made never made our dreams collide.
(Edmund)
☾ Reconcile.
(Edmund)
☾ You don't need eyes to see.
(Kay)
☾ Where was my head when I needed it most?
(Caspian)
☾ Don't keep appointments with disappointment.
(Aslan)
☾

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Where was my head when I needed it most?

[treadingdawn]

For a second he hopes Edmund did not speak to her but he knows that's a foolish thing to think of the Just. Does she have to be so selfless in the face of someone who has been nothing but selfish? Caspian feels tired, tired of feeling sorry for himself and tired for these conflicts. He is better than this. At the same time he cannot think of one person who has had to confront such a terrible future and been able to put it aside for better things. Caspian is unaware of how closely his thoughts truly thread together. With Peter and Merlin's silence, he never will. So he wonders, who can truly turn his cheek to losing his friends, likely losing his son, likely losing his wife, and then dying. Eustace knew not what he said when he told him oh, and don't worry, everything with your son works out! But Caspian connects the dots together; he will die before whatever works out works out. Who can turn his cheek to this save for the great lion himself?

"It's all right, Luna," he says quietly under a carefully controlled sigh. "I know," that things are rarely fair, his shoulders feel heavier as if there is a hand on one side, a hand he has coldly rejected.

The light that seems to pool in her hands does distract the Telmarine. It is as she has anticipated, that a brief moment of magic is enough to bring that trace of wonder back to his eyes. He is unsure of what she carries here, wonders if it's just a parlor trick to make him smile, and even that he would appreciate.

"What is it," Caspian asks, his brown eyes on the glow and not on her.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[suncolors]

"Just a light," she whispers, and something else that he probably can't quite hear, a word here, a word there, and neither of them the sort that the Telmarine would understand even if he did hear her completely. Her lips barely move as it is, and who knows when she took her wand in hand but she lowers it first, as if to touch so lightly the glow in darker hands. In the same motion its direction turns upward, and the point of it barely rests against the brunette's forehead, contact that he could easily not notice at all, if he did not look, but she knows he will.

Not that it matters.

Perhaps he feels disoriented when a mere moment passes. She would not blame him. Another whisper and her wand floats away from her hand to settle behind her as she uses both hands--the easier to continue this illusion of having done nothing. One goes to brush back some of his hair, and she notes the softness with a smile one could mistake for idle almost too easily. The other rests lightly on a shoulder.

"I think Narnia must be quite wonderful," she says as she leans back, hands leaving him as unobtrusively as they arrived, and while his shoulders already seem slightly down from being relaxed rather than burdened, the light in his hands is no longer there. It has served its purpose, and so has she.

Bowing her head briefly, she supposes it is for the best, even if it cannot last. Not everything is inevitable, but the future always has been, and always will be.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[treadingdawn]

It is a beautiful light to Caspian, reminding him of the flower he still keeps in his room, reminding him of fireflies in a garden and a friend brushing them out of his hair. To Caspian X, all of them remind him of the stars, of nights spent gazing at them while his mentor tells him stories of Narnia. The old Narnia, that is. He has always listened to every word but it would be a lie to say that at the same time a young prince had dismissed the stars entirely. He has always found them intriguing, points of the brightest light in such a dark sky. He has always found them beautiful and will continue to do so after meeting one. Science says that they burn out in time, something the Telmarine is yet unaware of due to his own world's grasp on science, so for now he thinks they are everlasting. Maybe that is why he finds them so special.

An old friend once told him that stars can be places too. He believes this, just as he believes there are worlds in a person's eyes, amazing things that fill the deep space of someone's experiences, memories, and awareness. He swears he saw starlight in his friend's eyes the other day, still sees something clear and northern in them now. It is a place that's difficult to visit, but once he is there he feels good and safe. Caspian considers sharing this with Luna when he feels something touch his forehead. It is so light he thinks little of what it actually is. Neither do the words he'd planned to say fall from his mouth.

Did you say something, he asks in his mind, unaware that he hasn't actually voiced the question.

Why are you touching my hair, is it nicer than usual tonight, he wonders curiously.

"It is, although I will not presume that spring in this world isn't beautiful as well," Caspian smiles. Ah, they were talking about Narnia again. He always wishes Luna could see that place, knowing she would probably attract the unicorns out of hiding and make the gryphons exhibit a gentler manner.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[suncolors]

Smiling at him still, she thinks he is very strong and then she hopes that it will be enough to see him through what lies ahead. Then, as if remembering something herself, she digs around in the small side bag that may have gone unnoticed before, drawing forth a tiny cluster of several periwinkles. They are the white sort with golden centers, and she wordlessly offers them to the Telmarine.

They are for memory.

Because one day, far from here, even at the end, you might remember this time and place and all that you knew too soon.

So thinking, her smile softens and her hands fold in front of her again. It is rare for the blond to feel disconcerted, to linger in sadness, and even now these things are colored by a gladness to hear and see this person before her speaking with such ease. A small grace, perhaps.

"I offered them to Destrier," she explains, which is not a lie. "But he seemed to think you would appreciate them a bit more," also not a lie, but certainly a statement with an understood disclaimer that the destrier doesn't actually talk, and so all communication is interpretation at best.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[treadingdawn]

He looks down at the white and gold cluster then accepts them but not without a minor confession.

"You are always giving me flowers, Luna. Often I wonder if this is your way of bribing me for Destrier's time," he says in a joking manner. He does not mean it at all, although it is also Caspian's way of saying thank you, I wish I had something better to give you. He hardly feels obligated to reciprocate in kind but he wants to. Either way he does smile for her explanation while turning the cluster in his hands. "That does not surprise me. He is far more fond of carnations and gardenias," the Telmarine reveals which only gets a snort from the horse. The horse who is sleeping and subconsciously felt a need to interject. Strange timing, that. Caspian just arches a brow at the big black beast then turns his attention back to the young witch.

"Thank you anyway," he nods then tucks the cluster into his breast pocket.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[suncolors]

"You never know," is her succinct but ironically knowing reply, her tone the same as it ever is, as well as her expression at this point. Though her feet are bare, her shoes will not be following her here tonight, and she thinks she might prefer to sleep here than return to the others. There is something she rather finds irreplaceable in being alone. It isn't that she needs time to think either, no.

She needs time to not think.

"You should go home soon, perhaps. I did promise not to keep you too long," your Highness, she thinks with a mild sweetness, a suggestion she gives not to get rid of him, but because she knows those who live with him truly will worry. They are family, after all.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[treadingdawn]

Never know? He supposes that's true, Destrier is a fickle sort, sometimes.

"What about your shoes? I can wait with you until they arrive," Caspian offers but he is yet unsure of how those things work. Do they keep a schedule? Are they punctual? Do they keep track of her or is it she who keeps track of them? Either way, his offer still stands. Strangely, he recalls her promise but does not recall holding her to it for any reason.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[suncolors]

"They won't be joining me today," she shakes her head, toes curling absently. "But thank you," she adds, and then she stands. Peering down at the brunette, she has no concept of how silly it might or might not look for someone so slight as she is to offer her hand as to help the young king to his feet, but that is a normal sort of unawareness that Luna carries with her at all times, and always will.

Eyes on him, and she knowing more than she ought to, it is a strange dynamic the City presents them with, but each will play his or her part through to the end, whenever that moment comes, here, or in their own worlds.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[treadingdawn]

"Are you sure," he asks but he thinks she answers him when she offers her hand.

Caspian is aware of the difference in build, in height, and it strikes him as funny that they are about the same age but look so different. Perhaps it's a matter of worlds or experiences or maybe people are just born to look and age differently. It's probably the last one, genetics and some other complex sounding things Doctor Suresh has mentioned once or twice. He would not presume one's experience is any more difficult than someone else's just because a boy flees from his own home only to lead a revolution back to a throne rightfully his while a girl is a student at a school full of magic where only certain eyes may see these things called Thestrals. The Pevensies are evidence of looks that belie true experience. Anyway, he does take Luna Lovegood's hand and moves to his feet with ease.

"Thank you," he repeats her words complete with a bow and a kiss to her fingers before he releases her hand. Caspian doesn't know what compelled him to do that, it just seemed fitting at the time. He feels lighter, more willing to be whimsical. "I will see you again," the Telmarine promises.

Where was my head when I needed it most?

[suncolors]

"I am," she nods once, her smile remaining a little more easily than it has so far. "They--" she stops when his lips touch the bend of her fingers and for a very rare moment indeed, Luna finds herself surprised, and what is more, she shows it. People do not often show her affection, great or small, and while this could in some places, Caspian's world even, she imagines, be considered nothing special, just a polite gesture with the flair of the court, it doesn't strike her that way.

It confuses her a bit, but overall, she is equally surprised to find that it brings her a small portion of serenity. She has done the right thing and this person who is good and kind will continue to be the beautiful and admirable king that he must be. He will suffer and he will grieve, but there will, she hopes more fervently than she has hoped in a while, be moments of gentleness as well.

You cannot leave him so alone, she thinks with a deathly quiet, knowing what it is like to both stand in a crowded room and be without anyone, as well as what it is to watch that crowd depart, the only one remaining.

Her hand released, she continues to stare at it for a moment, as if her actions are seconds behind, catching up to everything else. Once she looks up again, she pauses only a moment before she bows ever so slightly, but it is very obvious somehow what she says with it, and acknowledges.

"I would like that," her voice tilts with a different softness than before, traces of the unexpected still making their departure. Turning to exit in the opposite direction, out of the stable and closer to a whispering forest, she pauses with her hand on wood siding.

I hope you stay here for a while yet, Caspian X of the House of Telmar...my friend.