—
He hears the bark, though he almost dismisses it for nothing - the hoarse voice of a seal (though this is not their season) or the slap of a wave against ancient, pitted rock. But despite all his daydreaming, Caspian knows well the difference between what is imagined and what is real, and he turns toward the sound with half the grin still on his lips.
It doesn’t fade when he sees the shapes, indistinct through the thinning mist, but it does catch. His ears flick sideways, then forward again; his thoughts turn away from Benvolio and the steep path down to him. There, pale as a ghost, is the dog - too angular and strange to be a wolf - and a pegasus, dark and slim as a shadow beside it.
There’s a part of Caspian that feels caught, though he’s doing nothing wrong. It’s too close to his secrets, and too far from where other Terrastellans usually are. And then there’s the greeting, hard against the wind, and maybe its his sudden suspicion but it feels like an accusation and not just their court’s traditional greeting.
Still, he turns fully around so that he’s facing the pair, ducking his head against the wind that sends his hair stinging into his eyes.
“Her mercy meet us,” he answers, in a voice so level and sincere even his mother would be convinced. Caspian has never quite managed to believe in Vespera’s mercy. Not after the Flood, and - more damning - the way she hasn’t been seen since. Like a sweep of grass only temporarily flattened by the breeze, his grin surfaces again. “You shouldn’t startle people like that so close to a cliff’s edge, you know-”
Just then, the speaker and her companion materialize fully from the mist and he realizes who has hailed him.
Caspian isn’t aware until his mouth shuts with a click of teeth that it had slackened at all; his eyes, for a moment, are wide and wondrous (and just a little worried). “Your Majesty,” he adds, and wonders what in the gods’ names he’s supposed to do now. Mercy meet them, indeed.
@Marisol
It doesn’t fade when he sees the shapes, indistinct through the thinning mist, but it does catch. His ears flick sideways, then forward again; his thoughts turn away from Benvolio and the steep path down to him. There, pale as a ghost, is the dog - too angular and strange to be a wolf - and a pegasus, dark and slim as a shadow beside it.
There’s a part of Caspian that feels caught, though he’s doing nothing wrong. It’s too close to his secrets, and too far from where other Terrastellans usually are. And then there’s the greeting, hard against the wind, and maybe its his sudden suspicion but it feels like an accusation and not just their court’s traditional greeting.
Still, he turns fully around so that he’s facing the pair, ducking his head against the wind that sends his hair stinging into his eyes.
“Her mercy meet us,” he answers, in a voice so level and sincere even his mother would be convinced. Caspian has never quite managed to believe in Vespera’s mercy. Not after the Flood, and - more damning - the way she hasn’t been seen since. Like a sweep of grass only temporarily flattened by the breeze, his grin surfaces again. “You shouldn’t startle people like that so close to a cliff’s edge, you know-”
Just then, the speaker and her companion materialize fully from the mist and he realizes who has hailed him.
Caspian isn’t aware until his mouth shuts with a click of teeth that it had slackened at all; his eyes, for a moment, are wide and wondrous (and just a little worried). “Your Majesty,” he adds, and wonders what in the gods’ names he’s supposed to do now. Mercy meet them, indeed.
@
