Touch... Taste...
Title: Touch... Taste...
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or its characters.
Author’s Note: This is my response for the Response to Weekly Drabble Challenge # 1 a
susancaspian
Prompt: Feast
Touch… Taste…
They were stopped for lunch in a quiet clearing in the woods, resting from their long day of traveling. Caspian watched as Susan took a few practice shots a distance off, firing arrows in quick succession into the ground. Even having being out of practice for several centuries, he knew she could take him in any challenge. Usually, his pride would have won out at the passing thought and he’d be on his feet, a bow in hand, in an instant. But he found himself still rooted to a mossy rock, watching in fascination as the so-called ‘gentle’ queen of Narnia hit her mark from nearly sixty feet away, with hardly a pause for aim.
She moved with an elegant grace that belied her years of warring and dancing, despite her slender frame. It took a moment before he realized she was motioning him over. He stood abruptly, oblivious to the glances of her brothers and sister, and made his way through the soft grass to her side.
“Come for a walk with me,” she said, somehow demanding and kind at the same time. Her voice was smooth and creamy, like the skin exposed across her neckline. She held her hand out to him and it felt natural placing his in it. A smile played across her lips at his lack of hesitation and he stepped forward so their hands fell between them. Her bow was grasped in one hand but he felt a surge of warmth and happiness that she held his in the other.
They walked in silence through the trees, winding aimlessly away from the others. Never once did Caspian fear they would lose their way, but whether it was trust in Susan to know where she was or that he was already too lost in the feel of her soft hand wrapped around his to care, he never bothered to wonder. She stumbled over a fallen branch buried beneath the ferns and fell briefly against him before straightening herself and her skirt.
A whiff of the foreign perfume she had worn in her own world drifted past him and he breathed in the heavenly floral scent. Still, she didn’t seem to notice his preoccupation. She only caught his hand in hers once again and, smiling, tugged him towards a small stream. She lowered herself to the ground, laying her bow and her quiver beside her. She pulled him down with her by the hand and, rolling onto her side, stretched her legs out. Caspian traced the lines in her palm with a finger, hoping she felt the same tingle he did where they touched. Susan slowly looked up from their hands to his eyes and hoped he knew what he did to her.
With a hesitation he hadn’t known before, one that was less out of uncertainty or fear than it was out of savoring a moment, he brought his free hand up to her cheek, feeling her warm beneath his touch. He slid his hand to her neck and she leaned in, meeting him halfway. Their lips touched and he tasted the sweet apples she’d had earlier, the faint bitterness of woodland nuts and something in between that was uniquely Susan.
Sight, sound, scent, touch… taste… She was a feast for the senses.