onward and upward
It had been a little more than a month since the events of Halloween, and while Caspian was not entirely up to what he felt was his usual self, he could not sit still for much longer. His recovery was much slower than he would have liked, and it made him restless. The news of the Lannister boy did not help matters, nor did the coming of the snow. Caspian could ill afford to sit by and do nothing, and so today he saddled Jonquil and rode down to the dock to check on the Jenny. The hardworking little boat was difficult to keep in repair at the best of times, and weeks of neglect could not have been good for her.
But as he approached the dock, he caught sight of a bright purple sail, and his heart leapt in his chest. There was only one ship he had ever known that had a sail of that colour, and he urged Jonquil on faster, picking up the pace.
It was the Dawn Treader, looking as beautiful as the first day she had been launched from the harbour at Cair Paravel. Caspian gave a shout, practically vaulting from his horse (ignoring the ache as his still-healing injuries protested) and hastily tying her before running out onto the snow-dusted dock. Her green-and-gold sides gleamed brightly in the winter sun, decks sparkling clean and metal fittings all shining and spotless. "My ship," he said happily under his breath, too happy to keep silent. Who would he find aboard, he wondered?
Climbing aboard, he called out, "Drinian? Reepicheep?" And after the barest of pauses, hoping against hope, "Edmund? Eustace?"
He ducked below decks, looking through the hold and cabins for any sign of the crew, but the only answer was the peeping of the chickens in the hen coop and the creak and sigh of ropes and rigging in the breeze up above. There was every sign that the crew should be there, even down to the chess set that Lucy and Reepicheep had played with many an afternoon, the pieces almost too big for Reep to pick up - but the ship was completely deserted.
Caspian came back up on deck and leaned against the railing, letting out a long breath. His beloved ship had appeared here, but he would give her up in an instant to be back with his loyal crew again; Drinian, the faithful Reepicheep, and most of all his dear friend Eustace.
But as he approached the dock, he caught sight of a bright purple sail, and his heart leapt in his chest. There was only one ship he had ever known that had a sail of that colour, and he urged Jonquil on faster, picking up the pace.
It was the Dawn Treader, looking as beautiful as the first day she had been launched from the harbour at Cair Paravel. Caspian gave a shout, practically vaulting from his horse (ignoring the ache as his still-healing injuries protested) and hastily tying her before running out onto the snow-dusted dock. Her green-and-gold sides gleamed brightly in the winter sun, decks sparkling clean and metal fittings all shining and spotless. "My ship," he said happily under his breath, too happy to keep silent. Who would he find aboard, he wondered?
Climbing aboard, he called out, "Drinian? Reepicheep?" And after the barest of pauses, hoping against hope, "Edmund? Eustace?"
He ducked below decks, looking through the hold and cabins for any sign of the crew, but the only answer was the peeping of the chickens in the hen coop and the creak and sigh of ropes and rigging in the breeze up above. There was every sign that the crew should be there, even down to the chess set that Lucy and Reepicheep had played with many an afternoon, the pieces almost too big for Reep to pick up - but the ship was completely deserted.
Caspian came back up on deck and leaned against the railing, letting out a long breath. His beloved ship had appeared here, but he would give her up in an instant to be back with his loyal crew again; Drinian, the faithful Reepicheep, and most of all his dear friend Eustace.