kitchen_maid | (no subject)

(no subject)

In the two weeks since the Ordinary Princess was last here, autumn has arrived in the Forest of Faraway. But this is that perfect moment in autumn, the one you remember. The leaves have turned, but few have fallen. The weather has turned cooler, but it's still warm in the sun. It's a beautiful day for a picnic.

The Ordinary Princess stands very still in the clearing, head tilted back to look at the trees and the sky, the squirrels chasing each other around her feet. "This is the Forest of Faraway," she says, eyes still on the trees. And then she turns to look at Caspian. "This is home."

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[ooc: *bows*]

Peter Aurelious accepts the blackberry with a "Qwa."

"Oh, Caspian," she says, because it sounds quite dreadful to the Ordinary Princess. "Your uncle is the one Peter fought on your behalf? So I can guess what happened to him. What happened to your aunt and your cousin?"

"As a matter of fact, Peter didn't kill Miraz," he says, grinning at Peter Aurelious, who says "Qwa" back at him and blinks in a dignified manner.

"One of his one men did, while he was lying on the groud. Terrible, really--Miraz was never very kind to me, but he was the only family I'd ever known, and I'd have wished him a better end than that. His wife and my cousin were sent by Aslan with all the other Telmarines who wished to go to an island somewhere in Peter's world, actually."

Peter Aurelious does everything in a dignified manner.

"Oh," she says. "I'm sorry you didn't have a kinder family. And, for it's worth, I promise never to try to kill you."

He laughs.

"Well, that is very kind, Amy, thank you. And you, it wasn't so bad. I had a very wonderful nurse, and Doctor Cornelius was a fine tutor and friend. I suppose it explains why I rather adopted myself into Peter's family, though."

She smiles at him. "Adopted families are excellent things."

Peter Aurelious says, "Qwa."

"And do Forest of Faraway blackberries meet with you approval?"

He tries one, and chews it thoughtfully. Peter Aurelious quirks his head at him.

"Qwa," Caspian says at him. "Yes, they're very good indeed."

She smiles. "And would you care for lunch, such as it is?"

"That'd be lovely," he says, and looks about.

"Where should we set up?"

"Oh, anywhere. It's not very grand, I'm afraid."

It's apples, slightly stale cake, odds and ends of bread, and walnuts they'll have to share with Mr. Pemberthy.

"Near the pool, maybe, so we can get the blackberry juice off our fingers, and the water will be near at hand if we get thirsty."

"It doesn't need to be grand," he says, "I'm just glad to be out here with you, Amy."

He heads towards the pool and lays out a cloth for them to sit on a short distance from the water.

As the Ordinary Princess sets out the food, Mr. Pemberthy comes hopping over (walnuts!), alone.

"Oh, dear," she says. "He's lost Simon Perryvall again. Caspian, would you excuse me for a moment?"

And she's off without waiting for an answer.

"Of..."

He looks up, and sees that he's alone, for the moment.

"Course?"

Shrugging, he continues setting out the food, whistling a bit.

"You are not meant to be here, young man."

If Caspian turns around, he's going to a woman standing half in, half out of the pool behind him. She's leaning on a knobbly branch of coral, and her long grey green hair is dripping onto a robe that appears to be made of seaweed. She's regarding Caspian steadily through horn-rimmed spectacles.

Caspian turns, and gives a short yelp of surprise. There are some things fifty years of kingship simply can't prepare you for, and the sight of an old woman regarding you from a pool through horn-rimmed glasses is one of them.

Recovering, he makes a graceful bow, and stands straight.

"I cry your mercy, madam, but I don't know what you mean."

"I suspect you know exactly what I mean," she says, drily. Or, well, not drily but . . . nevermind.

"You're not a part of this world, are you? How did you get here?"

"No, madam, not part of this world. I came here with my adopted sister, Amy, who offered an outing and picnic during her afternoon off."

"That would be Amethyst, then, would it?"

She looks at him. "I had not heard that King Hulderbrand was adopting any sons."

It's not quite an accusation.

"As far as I know, he isn't," Caspian says lightly. "Amy and I know each other from outside this world. She is very dear to me."

"I think," says the old woman, "that you had best start at the beginning."

A pause.

"The beginning being, of course, your name."

"My name is Caspian."

A pause, and he raises his eyebrow in a fairly cheeky manner.

"Would you like all of my titles as well, or will my name suffice?"

"If you think they matter," she says, in a tone that implies they probably don't, "by all means, include them."

He only gives a short bow in reply. "Perhaps you'd be so kind as to give me your name, madam? It is only fair, I think."

"I am Crustacea. Amethyst is my goddaughter."

"Ah," he says, understanding dawning. "She who gave the gift of Ordinariness."

"Yes. She told you that, did she?"