Room 203, 7:30 Wednesday Morning

[kitchen_maid]

It was a long night, last night. Amy got in late, and sleep came neither easily nor quickly.

And so, now, even though she's usually up and dressed and busy starting her day by this time, Amy is still curled up in bed, drifting not quite in and not quite out of sleep. Anne has gone off to meet Gilbert for breakfast, and aside from the occasional burst of chatter from the squirrels, the room is still and quiet and peaceful, full of warm sunlight and the soft smell of lavender.

She'll have to get up at some point, and face the day and all it brings.

But not just yet.

Comments

[kitchen_maid]

"Yes, I think you're right." Amy doesn't sound happy about it, but she agrees with him.

And there's more she wants to say, but she can't think of how, or even if the words exist.

[the_seafarer]

Caspian is not happy about it, either. All his life, people he has loved have left him, and now in his death it is still the same.

So he's quiet, and drinks his tea, and waits to hear her, if she can find the words.

[kitchen_maid]

It's a new experience for Amy, really.

"I . . . she's . . . I think she's worried about you."

There's really no "think" about it.

[the_seafarer]

"Susan is a caring girl," he says, vaguely.

"She'll be worried for all those she leaves behind, I think."

[kitchen_maid]

Amy nods. She's not explaining this right.

"I'm worried about you, too."

[the_seafarer]

"I know you are," he says, gently.

Usually, he'd say something about how she needn't bother, and he is perfectly all right although he appreciates the thought.

But he isn't all right, and he is frightened by the knife's edge he can feel himself to be on, and so he doesn't say anything.

[kitchen_maid]

And if he had said any of that, Amy might actually have called him on the lie.

"Sister's prerogative," she says, and she tries to make it light, but fails rather miserably.

She leans against his knee a little more firmly and doesn't look up at him.

[the_seafarer]

His hand remains warm on her hair.

"I must have done something right, to deserve such a sister as you," he says, fondly.

[kitchen_maid]

At that she does lean back to look up at him.

"Well," she says, with a small smile, "you're a very good brother. That's probably a lot of it."

She lets a moment pass and then adds, "I love you."

[the_seafarer]

He smiles down at her in response.

"I love you, too, Amy. You are my dear sister.

(I found my family)

"And you are a comfort and a joy to me."

[kitchen_maid]

"And you to me. Best beloved brother."

Her smile, is still small, but it quirks a little.

"Have you eaten?"

He had to know it was coming.

[the_seafarer]

His own mouth quirks, and a spark of amusement shines in his eyes for a moment.

"Sneaky girl. No, I haven't."

He looks at his tea.

"...I haven't had much of an appetite, frankly."

[kitchen_maid]

"No, I don't guess you have." She hasn't either.

But she gets up, and returns a moment later with apples and cookies. It's not really much of a breakfast, and she doubts either of them will do more than pick at it, but it's better than nothing.

She settles back on the floor and offers him an apple and a cookie.

[the_seafarer]

He takes the apple, but instead of biting into it, does something rather odd.

Taking a knife from his pocket, he peels it carefully, and cuts the white flesh into pieces, and eats it slowly, piece by piece.

The last piece he offers to Amy, with an oddly solemn expression.

[kitchen_maid]

"Thank you."

Amy takes it, looking just slighty bemused, and eats it carefully.

[the_seafarer]

"You're welcome," he says, looking strangely more relaxed.

This isn't that apple, and neither he nor Amy are terribly ill, but the old stories are a comfort anyway.

The cookie gets eaten in normal fashion.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy still doesn't understand, but if giving her a piece of an apple makes him happy, all right. She understands that it means something to him, and, really, that's enough.

[the_seafarer]

Someday he'll tell her the story behind it, about the birth of Narnia and the tree that was her shield for hundreds of years, and of the apple that cured a deathly illness...but not today.

He finishes the cookie, and his tea, and puts the cup gently down on Anne's desk.

"Thank you, Amy."

He may or may not be speaking of the food.

[kitchen_maid]

And she'll be here to listen to the story when he decides to tell it.

"You're welcome, Caspian."

She may or may not be talking about the food, either.

But probably not.

[the_seafarer]

He smiles at her, and the silence between them is warm and companionable, and he is loathe to leave.