The High Queen II

Something else

Caspian had been relieved of his leather vest and sword belt as Eleanor led him to a ledge overlooking the plains and the ancient pillars outside the Howe. He watched with mild intrigue as she dipped a cloth bandage in a bowl of water, wringing it out.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her hands work deftly.

"This isn't just water," she replied, her dirty blonde hair blowing in the breeze as she focused on the task. "Lucy doesn't have much of her healing potion left, so I've diluted it in water to stretch it out a bit. It's weaker, but it'll still help with little injuries like this."

Caspian held his hand out without her needing to ask, and she began carefully wrapping the bandage around his palm.

"You're upset," he observed quietly, his accent lacing the words, making it hard for her to stay cross with him.

"Upset? You think I'm upset?" Her tone was light but edged with sarcasm. "I'm just...perplexed, I suppose. Did you really lose faith in us so much that you wanted to raise the White Witch of all people?"

His face softened, and his lips floundered for a moment as he tried to find his words. "I was hurt by your brother's words. A-and I wanted Miraz to pay. I wanted him dead, and they promised me that would happen." He paused, his gaze dropping to his hand as Eleanor kept wrapping it. He noticed how her expression shifted from frustration to interest as she continued listening. "I didn't know they intended to raise the White Witch. I'm sorry if I hurt you by trusting them, but—"

He cut himself off, surprised, as Eleanor's hand found his good one, lacing her fingers between his with an unexpected gentleness.

"I understand why you did it," she said softly, meeting his gaze, "but can I ask something of you?"

"Of course," he replied instantly, feeling her hand warm in his.

"When you finally face Miraz, remember there's a difference between avenging your father and simply seeking revenge." Her blue eyes searched his, revealing more than she intended. "And you are different, Caspian," she added, her voice laced with a wry smile. "You're better than your uncle. I know you can see the difference when it matters most."

Caspian swallowed, and as she let go of his hand, he reached up and brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Her skin was soft, and she leaned into his touch, her smile disarming him.

"You're wise beyond your years, Queen Eleanor," he said, admiring her. She arched a brow at him, a slight smirk pulling at her lips.

"Careful, Caspian. I might start believing you actually value my counsel."

"I do," he assured, his eyes intense. "And I've never met anyone quite like you—someone so...similar and yet so different."

"Enchanting, you mean?" she teased, her sarcasm layered but not harsh.

"And vexing," he added, a genuine grin forming on his face.

"Vexing?" Her brow arched again, her voice laced with mock offense. "All I do is bandage your wounds, rescue you from ill-advised decisions, and dispense the occasional sage advice. And this is the thanks I get?"

"Yes," he replied, unable to hide his smile. "Because you have this...inexplicable urge to throw yourself in harm's way for others. It's...incredibly vexing."

She scoffed, her laughter light and airy as she shrugged off his hand. "Next time, I'll just let you be skewered by an arrow. Let's see if that's any less vexing for you."

They shared a smile, turning to gaze out over the open fields.

"I've never met anyone like you either," she admitted after a moment, her voice quieter. "Someone who makes me feel both happy and nervous...and curious."

"I make you nervous?" he asked, his tone less assured, his eyes searching hers.

"Not the bad kind of nervous," she clarified. "The good kind—the kind that makes me want to find out what comes next. I've never courted anyone before. Back when I ruled Narnia, most suitors skipped straight to marriage proposals. This..." She gestured between them. "Whatever this is...it makes me nervous that I don't know how it ends. But it also excites me."

Caspian's smile softened, and he found himself at a loss for words.

"If I'm honest," he confessed, "I find you rather unnerving too. It's not every day I meet a woman who can wield a sword as well as you. In Telmar, it's...unheard of."

"In Narnia, we have this little thing called equality," she quipped. "If a woman wants to fight, no one stands in her way—especially if the kingdom needs it."

Caspian chuckled. "If I ever take my father's throne, I think I would make some changes in Telmar."

"When," she corrected him, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze.

"I'm sorry?"

"When you take back your father's kingdom," she said, her tone confident, a slight smirk on her lips. "I don't like to lose."

"Then I have no doubt we'll win this war," he replied, a soft laugh escaping him. Eleanor's smile widened as she gazed out over the landscape, and he couldn't help but stare, mesmerized by her. They both fell silent, the breeze cooling the air around them as they stood side by side.

"I haven't felt this at peace in a long time," she murmured, almost to herself.

Caspian's gaze softened. "Can I have your hand?"

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "You already do," she replied, nodding at their clasped hands.

He chuckled, unable to resist her wit. "Your other hand, then."

As she took his injured hand, she untied the bandage, and he watched in awe as she peeled it back to reveal unblemished skin, no sign of a wound remaining.

"How—" he began, staring at his hand in astonishment.

"I told you," she said, her eyes dancing with mirth. "It wasn't just water."

"You are something else, Eleanor," he whispered, smiling in awe at her playful expression.

"Now that's the second time you've said that to me, yet both times you've failed to mention what the 'something else' is exactly."

His smile turned roguish. "Where would be the fun in telling you that?"

She scoffed, a smirk tugging at her lips. "I didn't think you had it in you to be that coy, Prince Caspian."

"Given the chance," he replied, his gaze lingering on her face, "I believe I could surprise you."

"I believe you could," she murmured, her eyes holding his before they both turned as someone cleared their throat behind them.

The professor stood at a respectful distance, offering a slight nod. "I'll give you two a minute," she said, picking up the bandages and the bowl as she walked back to the Howe, leaving them alone again.

Caspian watched Eleanor for a long moment, his heart unsteady in his chest. Perhaps, he thought, there was hope for both of them yet