(Untitled)

[treading_dawn]

The night is cool and clear, stars twinkling above, reflected cleanly in the lake below.

And in that soft light there is another light, brighter, if more contained.

The Lion is here, pacing out of the forest.

There is something solemn about him tonight.

Solemn, and perhaps a little sad.

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[the_seafarer]

Caspian is weary.

He has not felt so tired since the day he arrived back at Cair Paravel, sick and aged and weary of the world in which he had lost his son.

The night air is cool and refreshing, but Caspian walks, troubled, his hands clasped behind him, his mind on his thoughts, and not on the figure pacing so silently in the dim, cool moonlight, though perhaps they, who had been walking alone, are now walking together, and pressure in Caspian's chest grows.

He wishes he could weep.

He wishes--

"Oh, Aslan," he says, unhappily.

[treading_dawn]

"Oh, my son."

The voice is deep, and gentle, and full of so much sorrow.

"You have borne so much, and here, at the end of all things, you must bear a little more."

There is the brush of warm golden fur against his fingers, and the air smells heavily of lilacs, of violets--of summer.

[the_seafarer]

Of lilies, and gold that is not sickened by what lies beneath, and Caspian lets his fingers sink into the rough fur, as if he were no more than a boyamanakinganorphan and he stops his walking, to look up at the sky.

"Aye. I must."

His voice is heavy, with sorrows and regrets. Too heavy for the boy he appears to be.

"There was no other choice to make. And yet--

I accept

"And yet I feel so sad, Aslan."

[treading_dawn]

"I know. It is what comes with love, and duty, and honor."

That great proud head turns, watching Caspian out of solemn golden eyes.

"They are worth much."

[the_seafarer]

"They are worth everything," says the king, and though his voice is sad, there is a renewed strength in his shoulders.

"Love. Duty, honour. They are Narnia, they are what I fought for so long ago. I have learned much since then, Aslan. But I still feel so terribly unworthy."

Silent a moment, he gazes at the stars, before his eyes drop, and sea-gray meets wild golden eyes without flinching.

"I have ever been weak, Aslan. Ever been suspect to temptation, when I wished to be strong. As I wish now."

[treading_dawn]

"Not weak, Son of Adam. Human. There is great strength in you--strength of heart and purpose both. And you have already stood true."

He lifts his head, tongue lightly touching Caspian's forehead.

"Do not be afraid. I am with you, even here."

[the_seafarer]

He had been afraid. He had told the witch that he did not fear her, but he had, somewhere within himself, but Aslan's breath is like lilies and like sunlight and like love and like Lucy's laughter, and Caspian closes his eyes, and breathes, and when he breathes out again he is not afraid any longer.

"I am glad of that, sir."

And the king kneels, and puts his arms around Aslan's great neck, and buries his face in the shaggy mane, and returns the Lion's kiss with one of his own.

[treading_dawn]

"You have always done well, Caspian. Hold hard to your courage, and to who you know yourself to be."

His eyes are solemn, and very sad with the weight of memory.

"That is one of the things that cannot be taken unless and until you cast it from you."

[the_seafarer]

"My courage."

There is a small laugh in his voice, unhappy and low.

"My courage and my self and my heart and mind and soul, all I have to give. But they do not belong only to me any longer, do they?"

[treading_dawn]

"And do you think they are so easily lost, my son?"

His voice is heavy with memory.

"Have you not heard the story of the Stone Table, and of the Deeper Magics? They carry their truth here, as well."

This place is not beyond Time, only at the end of it.

[the_seafarer]

"I have heard, Sir."

Quietly.

"Nothing is lost. I learned that the day I awoke on the mountainside, when you bled for me."

He hangs his head, a little.

"You are right. I am sorry, Aslan."

[treading_dawn]

"There need be no sorry between us, not in this, child."

His breath is sweet, and warm, voice rumbling deep in his chest.

"It is a hard road you walk, Caspian, and it may yet be a long one. But I will walk it with you, and it is not only children that may ride on my back when they are weary."

[the_seafarer]

"I used to be so angry," Caspian admits. "When Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy had to leave. I wanted them to stay. And I wanted to go with them. It was impossible. I thought it wasn't fair--I wanted them to be stay so much."

He takes a deep breath, and when he stands, the king is barely taller than the Lion. The moonlight touches on rough golden mane and on wild golden hair, and Caspian's forehead gleams for a moment as if there were a crown set there.

"They never really left, did they. Like you."

[treading_dawn]

"To be King or Queen in Narnia is to be King and Queen for always. And yet it would have been the same had they been only ordinary men and women."

He watches the King, and he sees the crown, and even in the moonlight the Lion shines with his own brightness, warm as the sun.

"I tell you this now so that you will remember it, as your heart remembers things that your mind does not."

[the_seafarer]

"I won't leave her again."

It's certain, and quiet, and it's a promise.

"And I'll remember."

[treading_dawn]

"You will."

Aslan's voice is quiet but deep, like the tolling of a great bell.

His words are less promise than truth.

No one is forgotten in Aslan's country, or in the country of the Emperor Over the Sea.