( Narnia never was right except when a son of Adam was King. )

The room he had shared with Lucy is empty, now, but for a small pile of letters and objects on the desk: his wedding ring gleams near two books, handwritten and bound in leather. On top of them stands a small pink horse.

Nearby sits the stockline record and employment record.

( Bernard )

Here's what's true:

Caspian, along with a number of the other Narnian characters, is going to be retired from Milliways on Sunday, July 15th. This will leave the problems of a disconsolate Lorna and also no stablemaster, both of which are not to be wished for, for their own reasons, but the second can and will be addressed ( Read more... )

It's early yet, but Caspian had woken up and found the usual morning drowsiness absent, so he had dressed and come out to the stable for chores, exchanging nods with the few others up and about. The mares and geldings are taken out to pasture; the stallions split between the few sectioned paddocks, and they're grazing placidly while the grain is ( Read more... )

( Merriman )

If the painting could slam, it would.

He'd laughed and mocked the witch, but underneath that high good humor was only anger, cold and relentless and hard, and now it seethes back up into his face--anger, and concern.

Even now? she'd asked, but there is something that Caspian knows that makes those words as meaningless as mist.  She's a witch, and ( Read more... )

The house is large and still; it is silent but for the near inaudible steps of servants and of the party heading towards the sunroom. No speaking is necessary, but now and then the guide points out a particularly beautiful tapestry or an exquistely designed light--never quite by mentioning it specifically, but he is an expert at drawing attention ( Read more... )

The interview with Inara had been very...

Informative. To say the least.

She'd escorted him off Serenity while he'd tried not to linger in his perusal of the ship, wondering if perhaps this was more what Eustace had expected when pulled onto the Dawn Treader all those years ago: metal everywhere. The House of Arch is comfortingly familiar when ( Read more... )

The weather's turning colder, and yet the Hope still floats on the dark still lake. A few frosts have come and gone, and Caspian has made a point of covering her sails carefully when he comes in from a voyage about the lake, but the days are still fine more often than not and no ice has yet formed, and so she stays for now ( Read more... )

It hasn't been precisely uncomfortable, these last few days, but the space between Caspian and Lucy has certainly been a little, well ( Read more... )