The Faded Portrait of a Bygone Era

He Who Leads

Margaret sat bolt upright, gasping for air. The dream had struck her yet again. It took but a moment for the slate gray cobblestones to melt away into the hushed blue light of early morning. Around the temporary campsite, Narnians milled about, rousing each other from sleep and gathering up their supplies.

"My lady?" came a voice to her left.

She turned, something inside her expecting to see Caspian. Instead, her gaze was drawn downwards to the Mouse from last night.

"Reepicheep," she said, a bit surprised. "Good morning..."

"And good morning to you as well, Your Majesty," he said. "Is everything alright?"

Margaret laughed softly, hoping she didn't sound too terribly shaken.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Reepicheep patted a neatly folded bundle beside him.

"I took the liberty of having those Telmarine clothes brought for you. Indeed, I was just about to wake you so that you might have a chance to change before we begin our journey to the How."

Margaret picked up the clothes.

"Thank you, Reepicheep," she said, standing.

Hoping to avoid any sort of conversation about the state in which she had woken, Margaret quickly moved off from the camp to change.

The Telmarine clothes were somewhat big on her, but she made do. She added a couple of notches to the belt. That would have to do for now. Her regular clothes were all but ruined from crossing the river and stumbling through the underbrush of the forest, and she was fairly certain the cheap rubber sole of one of her sneakers was just about to come unglued from the rest of the shoe. All things considered, it was best just to leave everything. Bringing useless things along would be a waste.

To be certain the Telmarine scouts wouldn't find her discarded items, however, Margaret covered the clothes with brush and dirt before she rejoined the Narnians.

Now that she had a cloak of her own, she thought it best to return Caspian's to him.

She found him deep in a quiet conversation with Trufflehunter and Glenstorm, and approached slowly.

"Caspian?"

He turned to her instantly, as though he had been caught off guard by her, and she felt a slight heat in her face. Peter had always told her she was as silent as a Big Cat.

Quickly recovering from the start, Caspian smiled, and it might just have been her imagination, but Margaret could have sworn his face lit up at the sight of her.

"Margaret..." he said. "How can I be of assistance?"

It didn't escape her notice that he remembered to use her name.

"I just wanted to return you cloak... and to thank you again for lending it to me," she said.

It was then that he seemed to notice her garb for the first time.

"It suits you well," he said, then immediately seemed to think himself too forward, for a light color dusted his cheeks, and he turned to Glenstorm. "Shall we proceed, then?"

Glenstorm nodded, then signalled to the others, and the Narnians began their journey.

-

Long they walked through the woods, for the most part in silence. Margaret found herself less than willing to leave Caspian's side. She told herself it was because she wished to be certain that he would not feel lonely or out of place. He seemed to enjoy her company, though, and she didn't think any more of it.