Room 203, January 7, 4:23 AM

[kitchen_maid]

Room 203 is absolutely spotless.

Everything is exactly where it should be, set there just so, Amy has finished the dress she started making last week, and every bit of mending that either her own or Anne's clothes needed has been done. Anne's books are perfectly flush along the shelf, the thread in Amy's sewing box has been organized by color. There is not a bit of dust or a spec of dirt or a crumb of anything anywhere.

Amy has run out of things to do.

Amy has been out of her room only once in the past two days, and only because she ran out of tea.

Amy has a letter, that Bar gave her along with the tea leaves, and which Amy has read until she has memorized it, with its (perhaps unintentional) mute reproach in the last line.

Amy has not slept.

Amy is in the window seat, staring at the lake without really seeing it.

There is a ledger on the shelf by her bed, next to her prayer book.

There is a chair under her doorknob.

There is no sign of a cloak anywhere in the room.

Comments

[kitchen_maid]

Amy's eyes are red, and tired, and far too bright.

But she holds his gaze, and doesn't quite breathe.

And then she steps forward, and without a word, puts her arms around her brother.

In some ways, it's the most Courageous thing she's ever done.

In others, it's the most Ordinary thing she's ever done.

Either way, it's the only thing she could possibly have done.

[the_seafarer]

He hesitates for a moment, and then his hands come up to lay against her back, gently, and he takes a breath that shudders through him.

"I'm sorry," he says, finally, softly. So soft it could almost be the breath that he lets out, and nothing more.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy lets go of the breath that she's only just realized she was holding, and shakes her head.

"There's nothing . . . you needn't . . . you weren't yourself."

Except, of course, that he was, there at the end.

A moment, and when she speaks again, it's so quiet that even she can barely hear it.

"I thought you were mad at me."

[the_seafarer]

"I was," he says, "angrier than I think I have ever been.

"But not at you, Amy."

His arms tighten, slightly.









"Never at you."

[kitchen_maid]

She really wants to believe him.

It's just . . .

"I didn't warn you," she says, "and I should have figured it out faster."

[the_seafarer]

There's a long moment, and then Caspian pushes Amy back far enough to look down and force her to meet his eyes.

"Amy," he says, "listen to me. Nothing that happened was your fault. There's no knowing what would have happened even if you had warned me. And you didn't see me for a long time--how copuld you expect to know?

"It isn't your fault, my dear. I swear it."

[kitchen_maid]

Another long moment, and then Amy takes a deep breath, and squares her shoulders, and nods.

She manages a half smile, and if there are tears in her eyes, well, they're staying there. Amy is not going to cry.

"How are you, Caspian? Truly?"

[the_seafarer]

"Better than I was," he says, honestly, "but, I fear, not so well yet as I would wish."

It's a far better answer than he gave to the others. Caspian still almost resents the fact that he is perfectly fine, in body at least, if not in mind and spirit.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy will not think about the ways in which Caspian could be worse than he was when last she saw him. She can't imagine there are many, and she's quite sure she would find all of them terrifying.

"Is there anything I can do?"

[the_seafarer]

He smiles, a little. It isn't quite his usual smile, but it is closer than it has been.

"I don't suppose you have any tea?"

[kitchen_maid]

On any other day, that might have gotten a laugh. Today it gets only a smile, but the smile is bright, and very real.

"I always have tea," she says, and there is just a trace of mock indignation in her tone.

And it's only the work of moments to make it, really.

"Sit down, if you like."

[the_seafarer]

"Fantastic."

He comes in, and doesn't quite look at the chair in front of the door, and goes to sit on the edge of Anne's bed.

And maybe he spies the ledger, but he does not make any move to go and get it, just yet.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy puts the kettle on to boil, and then moves Anne's chair back to its proper place behind her desk, where it will stay, for good.

And then she fixes the tea, with thin ginger cookies on the saucers (since she doubts Caspian has been eating when he should and knows that she hasn't).

"Here you are," she says, handing him his tea, and then settling on the floor by Anne's bed, drawing up her knees and leaning her head against his knee.

[the_seafarer]

He thanks her quietly, and sips his tea, balancing the plate on his thigh.

His other hand comes down to rest lightly on her hair.

After a moment, when he has drunk half his tea and eaten one or two of the cookies, he says, "Rilian came back."

[kitchen_maid]

She cranes her neck a bit, turning to look up at him, eyes a little wide.

"As himself?" she asks uncertainly.

[the_seafarer]

"Aye."

There's pride in Caspian's eyes, and a small smile.

"As he has been, so he says, for a year now, or more. He is king now, in Narnia."

[kitchen_maid]

"And a credit to you, I've no doubt. Caspian, that is marvelous news."

She sips her tea and then adds, far too innocently, "Have they made him get married yet?"

[the_seafarer]

"Not quite yet," Caspian says, and there's a definite lightening of expression there, and a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Although not for lack of trying, from what he was telling me."

[kitchen_maid]

"Well, that's what advisors are for," she says, solemnly, "to worry about royal marriages. My father might actually have a minister dedicated to just that, The Right Honorable Minister with Portfolio for the Management of Their Royal Highnesses' Alliances, or something to that effect. Though now that I think about it, he may also be in charge of something to do with fishing."

[the_seafarer]

"Well, of course," Caspian replies, just as solemnly.

"After all, he had to have something to do after all of you girls were married off."

[kitchen_maid]

"Oh, yes," says Amy, and she's having trouble holding the solemn tone now.

"And really, if you think about it, the principles are largely the same, after all. It's all about catching things."

[the_seafarer]

"Fishing is rather harder," Caspian muses.

"At least, it seems so to me. There were no end of eligible young maidens in the court before I married, it seemed."

[kitchen_maid]

"All of whom would, I suspect, consider fishing the easier. After all, they all seem to have failed to catch the king."

[the_seafarer]

"Most of them were a good deal older than me," Caspian admits.

"I doubt they'd have been very happy married to me, after all."

[kitchen_maid]

"For the best then," says Amy. "Besides, I think you've done fairly well, there. And more than once, really."

She quiet for a moment, and then far more serious when she speaks again.

"Have you talked to Lucy?"