[AU] bright is the morning

[sai_delgado]

There are days, say true, when restlessness runs deep in her blood. If she were to be at home, it's at times like these when she'd saddle one of her da's horses and take a long ride on the Drop, oh aye, but here at the end of the worlds it's not to be.

Instead, Susan Delgado rises with the sun and comes to the stables that are her charge, to care for the horses and other creatures there, and tells herself it's enough and more then.

(Mayhap it is, and mayhap it isn't. Ka's a fickle thing, say true.)

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[the_seafarer]

Her shy smile is as sweet as the berries they'd eaten, and Caspian feels his heart leap as she turns her hand in his.

His own smile is warm as a midsummer day, and a little abashed – king he was, and Man, but there are times when Caspian feels as much the left-footed boy he was when he'd set sail on the Dawn Treader for the first time.

"Words have never been my strength, Su," he tells her. "So I'll speak plain and beg your forgiveness for lacking the poetry you deserve. You're my friend, as dear to me as my own hand, and you've been a kindness and a comfort on many a grim and dreary day."

Carefully, he reaches with his free hand to brush her cheek with his fingers. "You shine like the sun, Susan. And yes – I feel more than friendship for you. I'll say that's true, and may the Lion have me for a liar if I say otherwise."

[sai_delgado]

She blushes again, and turns her face just slightly into his touch as he speaks, causing her braid to fall forward over her shoulder.

"Thee need not fret over poetry," she assures him. "I've not - I wouldn't--there's naught wrong with plain speaking, and much that's to the good."

She shakes her head just a little, searching his gaze. "But are thee sure? I'm not - I'm no lady true, not like ye've known in yer courts."

[the_seafarer]

"The ladies of the court!" he says. "No, and by God you're better for it. I've no need to worry over the politics of my affections here, thank the Lion, so I may lay them where they fall; and where they fall is here at your feet, Su."

She's nearly skittish just now, shy in a way he hasn't seen in a long while, and he's eager to reassure, to put her fears to rest. "You've no need of a title, and you hold yourself with more grace and confidence than those ladies who are named so could ever dream of having."

He smiles at her, warm and fond and absolutely certain. "I should be the one asking; after all, I'm only a poor stable boy with nothing to offer you but myself."

[sai_delgado]

She wrinkles her nose at him. "A poor stable boy? Oh, thee mischief."

[the_seafarer]

He laughs, quick and bright. "Perhaps," he says.

"But it's the truth, Susan. I have no land; no title, not here. And even if I did, were I still king in truth – "

He shakes his head. "The first King of Narnia was a horse-driver; his wife the Queen came from the same modest beginning. Nobility comes not from titles, but from the heart – I believe that. Besides... "

His gaze is warm on her face. "Any king must think himself fortunate a thousand times over to win your regard. Favour me with your smile again, Su, and I shall be a happy man."

[sai_delgado]

A wild-rose flush pinkens her cheeks once more, but she does smile at him, and oh, her smile is shining.

"And thee said thee had naught of poetry," she teases.

[the_seafarer]

She smiles at him and he lifts his free hand to his chest as though shot before reaching back out to cradle her cheek.

"I've not," he says, his own smile brilliant as he touches the pad of his thumb very lightly to the corner of her mouth, as if he could feel the brightness shining out of her.

Something wild is fluttering around his chest like a bird desperate for release; he lets it dive and soar and turn again, savoring the sensation of hopefulness, of possibility, here at this paused moment in an impossible garden.

"Now that I've said my piece, Su, do you – could you ever – "

As promised, his words fail him now, and he only watches her with a question in his earnest gaze.

[sai_delgado]

"Oh, Caspian," she murmurs, as she reaches out to rest her fingers lightly on his chest, over his heart, as though soothing the wound he'd just pretended to take. "Thee very dear. Dearer than friend alone."

[the_seafarer]

He lowers his hand from her cheek and sets it over hers, pressing it lightly against his chest. She must be able to feel his heart beating against her palm, the way it quickens at her words.

"Susan," he murmurs, overcome. His gaze drifts to her lips, but, afraid of acting too brashly, he lifts her other hand instead and presses a kiss to her palm, then the tips of her fingers. "Darling Su."

[sai_delgado]

Oh, and she knows what that look means, the way his glance shifts, and another shiver runs through her, stronger this time, as he kisses her hand once, then again.

Susan strokes her thumb over the arch of his cheek, then slips her hand around the back of his neck, playing with his hair as she does.

[the_seafarer]

His breath catches as her hand slides to the nape of his neck, and as her fingers toy lightly with his hair he loses all chance of fighting it.

Caspian makes a small, rough sound and curves his hand around the back of her head, leaning in to kiss her, and for all its gentleness, there's nothing shy in the way his mouth meets hers.

[sai_delgado]

She kisses him back, warm and sweet, as she traces a fingertip over the hollow of his throat just above his shirt's collar and threads the fingers of her other hand deeper into his hair.

[the_seafarer]

He shivers beneath her gentle touch and his hand tightens, fingers sinking into her hair just above the plait that hangs over her shoulder. His other hand goes to her waist before moving to the small of her back to pull her close.

The sons of Adam have ever wanted so much more than they should, but he can't stop himself now that he's started, kisses her firm and thorough, and when this kiss breaks, he pauses only for a breath before he kisses her again.

[sai_delgado]

She goes willingly into his arms, drawn to him and pressing near, and makes a soft sound as she returns kiss after kiss.

[the_seafarer]

"Su," he murmurs, kissing her again, his arm going around her waist and that small sound thrilling through him like the bugle of a horn. "Sweet Su."

The flowers he'd tucked into her hair have already been falling out; what few are left tumble now as he reaches for her braid to undo the tie and shake out her golden hair so he can plunge his hand into it, feeling as though he were touching sunshine itself.

[sai_delgado]

A little gasp escapes her and her fingers tighten in his shirt as he draws his fingers through the silken strands of her hair, golden locks free and falling loose. Susan's the one to press closer now, tipping her head back into his touch for an instant before she leans up to kiss him again.

[the_seafarer]

Joy and affection and desire all war at once in his chest as her hair spills free and he runs his hand through it over and over, caressing it as he'd never thought he might, his fingers gentle in the silken cloud of it.

She pushes closer and he holds her tightly in the circle of his arm, lifting to his knees as he leaves her berry-sweet mouth and kisses her cheek, her jaw. Carefully he pushes her hair to one side and presses his mouth to the slim column of her throat, feeling her pulse against his lips.

[sai_delgado]

This time the sound she makes is closer to a whimper, as he trails kisses along her skin and as her heart flutters and races.

“Caspian - oh —“

He rises to his knees and she follows, letting go of his shirt to put both arms around him now, one hand still curved around the nape of his neck.

[the_seafarer]

His name on her lips, in that breathless whisper, strikes him to his core. He kisses her throat again, then strokes his hand down her back and wraps both arms around her waist, lowering his head to her shoulder as he tries to control his racing heart and rapid breath.

Around them, the garden buzzes and blooms with life, and the little brook gurgles merrily, forgotten at their side. "Su," he says, holding her like a treasure; this precious thing that she is.

[sai_delgado]

“Caspian,” she murmurs in response. Susan holds him close, running her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, Caspian. Thee very dear.”

[the_seafarer]

He has no idea where the birch-woman went, but he finds he can't care, not when Susan's fingers are stroking through his hair and making him shiver at each gentle caress.

"And you," he tells her. "To me. Very dear." He turns his head and presses his mouth to her neck once more, murmurs words into her skin. "Beautiful Susan. Sweet, kind, wonderful Susan."

[sai_delgado]

She shivers again, harder, although whether it’s at his words or his kisses or both she’s not sure and couldn’t say.

Susan tips her head back, sending her hair cascading down over her shoulders, leaving the line of her throat open to him.

[the_seafarer]

He lifts one hand, keeping his arm around her, to hold her hair back, then follows the invitation of her tipped head, tracing his mouth up along the channel of her vein to the thin, soft skin beneath her jaw. He presses kisses carefully along the side of her neck and beneath her ear before dipping his head to kiss the hollow of her throat and working his way along to give the other side of her throat the same sweet attention, his kisses slow and precise and warm.

[sai_delgado]

A soft moan escapes her, almost inaudible, as he trails deliberate kisses along her skin and as a rush of sensation washes through her. Susan draws her fingers down through his hair to trace light patterns over the nape of his neck, wanting to coax such delicious shivers from him, too.

[the_seafarer]

He shakes against her and makes a quiet noise into her skin as she touches him, light and gentle and sweet, like the first warm spring sunshine after a long winter.

Goosebumps rise up beneath her fingertips and he has to pull back a moment, his breath ghosting over her skin, desperate not to push too far or make his kisses too hard. Once he's certain he can control himself, he sets his mouth against her pulse point and draws lightly on the skin there, laving it with the flat of his tongue.