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hearkenedsouls · 2 hours

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He opened his mouth to tell her to stop worrying about his blankets, when her cries of pain silenced him. The noises she made as he ever so gently wiped the cloth along her wound were nothing short of horrifying, and he instantly stopped his soft ministrations in response to her pleads. How could he not? He felt monsterous, inflicting such pain on her, even when he knew he was not truly the cause.

"Lucy, I'm so sorry, but I need to see the wound," he explained, but he didn't restart his actions until she'd taken several deep swallows from his flask. It wouldn't eradicate the pain completely, of course, but it should help dull the senses...particularly when Lucy was unaccustomed to its effects. Once he was satisfied that she had drunk enough, he returned to the wound - softly yet quickly wiping away the blood to fully assess the damage.

"It's a traditional Telmarine spirit," he admitted, as he tossed the blood-stained cloth aside and rummaged urgently in his belongings for a needle and thread. He knew he'd included them in his basic medical supplies...now, where were they? "Edmund told me it's somewhat similar to a drink you have back home. Whiskey, I believe? But stronger," he knew he had to keep talking, to keep Lucy's focus on him, but it takes considerable effort to ensure the panic storming through his veins isn't apparent in his voice.

Ah! In what seemed like an age, but was actually a matter of moments, Caspian's hand clasp around the box of medical supplies. Swiftly opening the lid, he threads the needle with surprising ease and returned to Lucy's side.

"I first picked up a sewing needle when I was a child," he admitted, meeting Lucy's gaze and allowing himself a small, slightly self-conscious smile. "I didn't have any siblings to entertain me, you see, so I had to rely on my nurse." As he spoke, he wrapped her fingers around the flask. "Drink as much as you like, this'll be a little...sore," he warned her, as he squinted through the fresh blood that was already pooling to find the edges of the wound. As gently as he could, he placed the needle into her skin.

"I had more practice stitching wounds during our skirmish with the giants," he continued to explain, as he carefully yet quickly began to stitch the wound closed - hoping to keep Lucy distracted and awake while he did so. "The conflict didn't last very long, but the giants were capable of inflicting rather significant injuries...as I'm sure you know."

There's something restrained and unspoken, yet it kindles like fire beneath the surfaces of Caspian's eyes. The sentiment lingers there for a fraction moment before vaporizing. In her present state, she had IMAGINED it altogether. Lucy finds herself far too fatigued to pursue the dangling thread further than it had already presented itself.

His affirmation of a scratch, though hushed, brings a tremulous smile to Lucy's face. "Jolly good." A breath is slowly inhaled. "Then- then I--- I-- got lucky." Lucky wasn't quite the word for it. Still she continues to speak. "Scratches are easily fixed." However, there's an undercurrent, akin to dread, seemingly broiling in Caspian's next admission. It can't wait? Surely, if it was just minor scratch, it could. "I'm -- I'm sure we're not that far out- Maybe a day or two, tops?" The optimist offers. Her navigational skills from the golden age are of NO use here, in Caspian's age. Plus, she hardly has an idea of WHERE they are. They're just BEYOND Narrowhaven.

With her sizable wound now exposed to air, without the shelter of her tainted shirts, pin-pricks of pain start to ghost along the surface. As Caspian moves to fetch the cloth, Lucy squirms. She tries to pull herself upright, just enough to catch a glimpse at what had held him so troublingly TRANSFIXED.

Despite her careful jerking motion, the only thing she succeeded in doing was drawing more blood out from the deep cavern. In response to the sudden surging flow, Lucy jams her fingers downwards. The inky scarlet soaks and bubbles like an uncontained brook, riveletting between her prodding fingers. Startled, a sound rumbles between Lucy's clenched teeth.

Lu manages to blink back a stinging field of stars as pain plows violently through her. Unable to truly see through blinding tears, and unable to move in the way she wills her body too, she settles back into the comfort of his pillows. "I'm -- I'm s--- s--- sorry about all of this..." Her crumbling voice utters, "I'm--- ruining your-- your nice ----blankets." Then empathetic eyes mist as Lucy realizes she's likely going to displace him for the night. That thought and the unuttered apology SPLINTER off under a renewed wave of sensation. "And -- and you won't have a -- a soft place to-- to sleep."

Her anguish only HEIGHTENS as Caspian's sopping rag is brought over the split skin. Thousands of numbed nerved endings FLARE back to life at breakneck speeds. The noise that pries free of her is piteous. Its sound is foreign even upon the shells of her own ears. Lucy finds herself pleading, in a hoarse, raspy, quivering way, for it to stop; even if she KNOWS it must be done. The prevalence of the PAIN consumes and engulfs her writhing form.

Was this how Edmund felt when Jadis stuck him with her knife? It is her SOLE thought as the offending rag is finally pulled away.

100 years of winter surely couldn't have felt THIS frigid. She shivers as her gaze locks upon Caspian's. For a second, she thought she saw fear mirrored back at her. The terror must be her own, she surmises quietly. Caspian had always been a pillar of fortitude. Being hunted by Miraz and his men hardly seemed to phase him, Lucy wistfully recalls. If only she could be half as strong as he or Peter were. Valiance was nothing in comparison, even if Aslan himself granted her the title.

Stiches weren't too terrible a fate. "Pr-- promise me, Caspian, y---you won't let E---Edmund or E--Eustace do any of the needle work." She demands through gritted teeth. Her bloodied hand attempts to coil around his own, though her fingers refused to bend. Edmund still has grudges to bear. Eustace, well he'd likely prod at her the way he did his insects, and Lucy surely didn't need any of THOSE kinds of favors.

Then with a half-spirited, ironic laugh, one that tugs carelessly at the wound, Lu adds. "Susan's g--- going--- going to be so envious. I--- I get---- to see your ---your needlework bef---- before she-- she does." It's a pale stab of humor that quickly pancakes, flattens without hope of resurrection.

Her eyes are getting more unfocused by the second. A crawling, thunderous headache is brewing in the corners of her mind.

Before Lucy can process more, Caspian has a bottle pressed to her lips with the instruction to drink. Lucy sputters softly upon the first swallow. The taste is not at all what she had anticipated, it is far harsher. "Wh---- wh-- what is that?!!!" She grimly rasps. Seconds later, a comforting warmth spiderwebs through her veins. Her chills still under the furnice-like flood.

A breath of relief escapes her. She takes a few more grateful swallows, despite not fancing the taste. With five swallows down, she realizes her limbs feel more comfortably weighted. Weighted, in a way that seems to lull her towards sleep. Sleep is a peril in which, she knows she must refrain.

She MUST distract herself. Keeping herself AWAKE feels imperitive. "Do-- do I--- want to know--- w-- where you-- you honed all your skills?" She asks, giving him an invitation to tell her how he got to be adept with a needle. Her voice is vacuumed of it's usual buoyancy and yet, no less eager.

#timeguardians #;the seafaring king #tw blood #//poor lucy omgg #//caspian is trying very hard not to lose his cool here XD

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hearkenedsouls · 3 hours

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Unable to prevent it, a bubble of laughter escaped her as Benjamin stumbled over his words and she sent him a fond look. It was almost too easy to fluster him. "A pity, really. It would be much easier if a stork deposited babies at the ends of the mother's beds," she mused, happy for the harmless distraction of their conversation.

Benjamin's words about her leadership touched her more than she cared to admit; God only knows how much she tried, battling - often unsuccessfully - against her husband and his ministers to try and ensure the best for the people.

"Louis named me regent," she admitted; she had not spoken those words aloud since it had been decided. "If my child survives..." she trailed off. There were far too many ifs for her to truly consider a future where she was finally ruling France; even if the baby made it to term, there was no certainty that the country would ever be safe enough for her to return.

Adjusting her hold on the reins, she glanced across at Benjamin once again, giving him a soft smile. "I would much prefer it if you lived for me." Particularly now: how would she survive without him? Rather unwillingly returning her thoughts to their present situation, her eyes flickered nervously around their surroundings as they joined the main road. "Do you have a destination in mind for our journey today?"

"Sleep?" Benjamin asked, horrified. Eyes flickering over towards Anne, he huffed a moment, embarrassed, before quickly backpedaling, "N-no, that's not what I meant...I only..." Sighing, he flung up a hand. "Well, I suppose there's no way to redeem myself now, is there?" Here, he smiled more good-naturedly. "I promise I'm not a complete imbecile. I know babies are not borne from storks nor fae in the woods."

Anne's remark, though one he immediately wished to dismiss, could not be disputed. Smile fading, Benjamin agreed, "There are plenty who will always hold that prejudice, madam, but you'll never hear it from me. You're a fine leader -- the very best amongst my lifetime, and I don't take that lightly."

Although Anne's words were true -- King Louis likely would have ordered his head be put on a pike, were he to maim Rochefort -- Benjamin chose not to drive home his loyalty. Sometimes, his passions got the better of him. "So you say," he murmured. "Though I made a vow to give my life for you, if need be. Don't make me bring it up again."

#honorhearted #;the spanish queen #tw miscarriage

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hearkenedsouls · 9 hours

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She was enjoying herself more than she had expected, more than - perhaps - she should be in the arms of a man who she was not related to. But it was a wonderful change to be dancing without any ulterior motives; she did not need to make alliances or political decisions. She could only relax.

"Not usually," she admitted. "But this is the first dance I have hosted myself. Perhaps I will allow myself such an indulgence, this evening," and her lips twisted upwards into a brighter smile. "If I can find any friends who would like my company, of course," she teased.

He liked the idea of her having a good time. He liked being one of the reasons that maybe her evening might turn into a success. There was a smile on her face and, for once, she didn't seem entirely burdened by the heaviness of her position. He liked knowing that he had a hand in that. In his own world Rand knew that he scared people off with the prophecies written about him - it was easier here for him.

"I can imagine with all the people and the planning." He answered as he moved with her, the music was light, the dance was easy. "Do you have time for yourself afterwards? For...friends?"

#caracarnn #;the spanish queen #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 15 hours

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It wasn't too late. He could stop, right then...just walk away. But he'd been fighting against the soulmate bond for so long, and his restraint had all but failed him now. How could this be wrong, when it felt so right?

Instead, he felt himself smiling at Eskel's teasing and he reached for the other man's hands, placing them onto his belt.

"Well then, you should take them off for me. I'm sure you're capable of that, aren't you?" he smirked, and the last of his resolved left him.

Eskel wanted to catch that thumb between his lips and suck it. He was nervous yet excited. He wanted to know what Caspian had in store for them both. It wasn't the first time for Eskel, but the first time him and Caspian explored this kind of relationship.

"I'm sure you'll like it. What I can do with that mouth."

Eskel's voice was cocky, teasing Caspian a little. "But you'll have to put those pants off, my King."

#eskelwolf #tw suggestive #;the seafaring king #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 1 day

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Son of Adam. The familiar phrase, yet one he had not heard for so many years, was the only thing that could drew Caspian from his grief and he blinked - turning to look towards the owl with new, clearer eyes. It couldn't be...? Perhaps he heard wrong, after all.

"Wait," he requested, as the bird began to spread its wings. "What did you call me?" he questioned, softly, as he resisted the urge to return his vision up to the skies. It was the only thing that could give him some comfort, thinking - perhaps- his wife was looking down upon him. When his gaze focused on the creature in front of him, he was able to recall the start of his sentence and something dangerously akin to hope began to course through him.

"What do you mean, I will not die without an heir?" he demanded, his voice suddenly filled with an urgency that he had not felt since the days immediately after Rilian's disappearance. "My son is alive? Tell me what you know. Please."

Forsaken. O', what a resigned phrase; and o', if he only knew that it was Aslan he was actually talking to! Yet, a disappointed heart like Caspian's was always hard to reach.

"You have lost much, indeed, but not everything," the owl spoke up again. The lost was much, it couldn't be doubted. For a loss of a son and a wife there were no words to describe. But Aslan had already made the plan before all this happened to bring Rilian back.

When Narnia was left without rulers after the Pevensie's disappearing, the Narnians stepped on the path of sin. (headcanon, you can find it here) Aslan had punished them for breaking his law, one dark era followed another, but in the end they returned to him, so he returned to them too -- and he had been taking care of his people, and he would not let them to be left without king or queen ever again, thereby preventing them to sin again just like in the past.

"You shall not die without an heir, Son of Adam," said the owl, and you could hear in the voice that the promise was serious, for Aslan never breaks a covenant, even if he is not believed. The bird then turned around, spread his wings as he was about to fly off. He didn't want to bother the king.

#fatherofnarnia #;the seafaring king #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 1 day

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BEN BARNES — for InStyle (May 2023)

#;photos #;queued #;mirror #;the seafaring king

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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He beamed at her, reaching for her hand and brushing his lips against the back of it. "Excellent! As long as delaying your return won't get you in awful trouble?" he mused, but he was already planning the additional activities that they could do together in her extra week.

@agoldenlily

She liked that she had been the cause for that smile to reach his lips. She hated leaving here and hated knowing that doing so made him upset. She didn't want to cause that for him. He was, after all, one of her closest friends. "Another week." She said with an agreeing nod of her head and a small smile. "Seven more days will make a difference." She's sure of it.

#agoldenlily #;the seafaring king #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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Despite his previous evasiveness, he allows her to lift his face and meet her gaze - just the hint of a smile curling at the edges of his lips at her obvious protectiveness. "A Telmarine. One of my Uncle's men, he must have been hiding here in Narnia for quite some time."

@hearkenedsouls (requested starter for Caspian)

"Don't say you're fine, Caspian!!! There are bruises all over you!!!!" Susan sharply chastizes. Stretching out her hands, she moves to encompass his face, so she may force him to make eye contact with her. "Who?" Her voice trembles with a hint of anger, not anger aimed at him, but those who harmed him. "Who did this to you?"

#timeguardians #;the seafaring king #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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As Mark tugged her closer, she had to resist the urge to turn and press her body fully against his. The hand on her waist felt burning hot, and she was suddenly imagining where else those hands may wander. Her pleasant thoughts were distracted by the yell of the captain, and she nodded her understanding to Mark's words.

And then his whisper sent a surge of desire through her so strong that she was sure it was obvious on her face. "I do hope you have quite an appetite today, Your Majesty, and your plate is quickly emptied," she playfully responded, once she had some control over herself once more.

❝ HE GAVE A faint grunt at her words, a brow quirked upwards at the same time. "England will gladly go to war to preserve the integrity of its Queen if need be."

The many rules of propriety were broken when he placed his hand at the curve of her waist and tugged her a little closer. The Captain of the ship gave a yell and began barking orders as the vessel gave a creak and slipped into the sea. "It's customary to drink and feast as you set sail." Mark nodded to a door that would lead them down to the mess before he bent to whisper in her ear.

"Then I'm taking my Queen to bed."

#iomamuise #;the spanish queen #//ohohoh x)

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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Figure a way. The thought of laying with another man - with another person, other than Mary - sends a wave of disgust through her. Although, if Mary was there too? Perhaps it would not be so bad.

"How on earth would we figure a way?" she queried, with obvious amusement in her tone, despite her carefully quiet voice. "Besides, whatever Louis thinks of me, I do not need a child to be happy. I have you."

❝ ——— 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘'𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐓 with her obvious displeasure at how Louis frequently treated his wife. "I see." Her gaze flicked to behind them, making certain there was still no unwanted ears. "We will figure a way. Somehow." She gave a gentle squeeze of Anne's shoulder.

Mary smiled at the compliment before she clipped more of the Queen's hair into its design. "And I plan to go nowhere for the foreseeable future."

#iomamuise #;the spanish queen #//they should just get aramis involved i am sure he would oblige XD

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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The King tries to mask his look of horror as Lucy explains that her injury is not fresh but had occurred several hours before - if not longer. How much blood had she lost in that time? He was quite familiar with the effect of adrenaline, in dulling the pain of an injury or eradicating it completely until safety was guaranteed, but that was not always a helpful phenomen. Injuries which, if treated quickly, could be easily healed were often left far too long...and infection could set in.

He can't reply to her explanation, his eyes are focused on the wound that was now revealed to him, and he's struggling to contain his panic. No cordial?

"I see," he murmurs, a second later, once he is sure his voice would not betray him with emotion. "Just a scratch," he agrees, knowing that it would help no-one if Lucy began to go into shock. "I'm not sure we'll be able to wait until land, Luc," he admits, and he's already fumbling for a cloth, dipping it into the basin of water kept at his bedside. There's so much blood it's hard to assess the damage, and he tenderly washes the wound - aware that every touch is likely agony to the youngest Pevensie.

He glances up at her face as she murmurs about being cold, and he swallows his growing panic down. Is it just the loss of blood? Or is it already infected? Aslan, help him. He didn't know enough about healing, and they did not have a doctor among them, having relied on Lucy's vial to treat the more serious of injuries. "You're going to need stitches," he warns, but he tries to keep his voice light. "Luckily for you, I've become quite adept with a needle and thread." But it would be painful, and he stands - tossing the blood-stained cloth to one side, and rapidly searching through his belongings until he picks up a small vial of his own.

"Here, drink this. It'll warm you up," he raises the bottle to her lips. It's filled with a much stronger spirit than the wine they were accustomed to drinking, but it would help to dull her pain.

Lucy whimpers softly as his muscular arms hoist her from her aching, tired feet. There, looking up at him, in the dim light of the Dawn Treader, she understood what her sister had seen. The current Narnian King possessed wonderfully handsome features, even when his countenance was marred with worrient. That consideration makes the youngest Pevensie's tentative eyes shift anywhere, everywhere, so long as they did not remain plastered upon him. She did not need him to discern any hint of a blush pooling at her pallor-riddled cheeks. Now, was not the time to entertain something as lofty as crushes. Besides, she could never compare to Susan.

Again she cries aloud, this time as he sets her miserably tired bones down in his soft bed. Even the tenderest of his movements tugs at the now gapping wound.

Caspian's question causes Lu's gaze to sheepishly return to him, and she swallows down quite miserably. She felt quite foolish.

Numb lips murmur, "when we were attacked at Narrowhaven, in the tower wit-- with all the bells, and the duel broke out---" She shivers. "I-- I thought the soldier missed," she confides. Adrenaline had drowned out any agony that might have otherwise been feltin that immediate moment. "I-- I wa--- was wrong." Wrong felt like such a serious understatement. It was all such a blur, between being wounded, and then SOLD at a slavers market like a slab of beef. The entire time she had been shackled, Lucy thought the stickiness in her shirt was nothing more than sweat from the scorching sun.

Lucy doesn't even try to fight Caspian's fumbling hands as he peels back the sopping fabric of her tainted shirts to reveal a long, deep cut from the curve of her hip up above her belly-button. It had miraculously stayed in one continuous and smooth line, even whilst gapping.

Lucy had allowed the bleeding to go on far too long already. "Just-- just a scratch, right?" She utters, though she knows the injury may be far more grave than that. Her fingertips had grown cold hours ago and the sensation was only spreading. Eager, though far too dulled eyes, search him for a confirmation or denial.

Tired eyes shutter at his next verbal prodding. Unshed tears cling to already sodden lashes. Her answer comes in the undercurrent of a fatigued breath. "I --- I lost it.... in the melee." It was SILLY. In thousands and thousands of years of reign, she had NEVER once misplaced it. Yet, here, in her direst of hours--- it was GONE. "I tried to go back for it but Edmund and Eustace stopped me." She murmurs in explanation.

Despite the sweat dotting her forehead, Lu finds herself muttering. "It's awful cold in here." As if to punctuate her point, her teeth begin to chatter. "How far t---till--- land?" She had forgotten that there was a fourteen day gap between lands. "May-- maybe there will be a d----do---doctor at the-- the next port?" She shivers out softly.

#timeguardians #;the seafaring king #//lolol lucy now is not the time to admire caspian but i'm totally with you gal XD

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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A chuckle escaped him at her challenging words, and he let out a playful huff of protest. "Did you ever think that - just perhaps - I let you win?" he teased, playfully nudging her arm with his elbow.

"If you're sure, let's go down to the stables now," he encouraged, and he was already beginning to lead the way down the winding corridors, and out into the courtyard. He knew he should probably have insisted that she rest after her journey - they had plenty of time together, after all - but his excitement was getting the better of him.

@agoldenlily

The story that he told her about the giants enthralled her. She always enjoyed hearing the stories that he regaled her with. They intrigued her more than she ever said. She especially liked the way that a gleam formed in his eyes when he talked about it. "That sounds genius."

Surprise at how quick it was offered crossed her face and she nodded her head. "I'm not too tired." She replied. The truth was she was rather thrilled to be out here with him and she didn't want to miss a single moment.

"I think that I would like that. Besides I want to see if your riding skills have improved since I beat you the last time I was here." She teased a she tossed a smile over at him.

#agoldenlily #;the seafaring king #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 2 days

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Her words reassured her, and she offered her betrothed a soft, smile with just a hint of pink colouring her cheeks at Penelope's compliments. She always tried to be kind, and she certainly wished for the marriage between them to be a happy one - even though it was not a love match, it did not mean that they could not grow very fond of each other.

"I am pleased. It was much the same for me, of course, but I was at very real risk of being married off to an elderly monarch, who's country lay hundreds of miles from my home. I am most relieved that my father has chosen you," she admitted, her lips curved upwards into a brighter smile.

"Shall we continue with our walk around the gardens? I fear our chaperone may catch up with us soon..." her smile turned mischievous, as she glanced behind them to see if she could catch a glimpse of her.

Penelope looked confused at her question, how could she possibly want more than she was being offered in this moment? In the Princess she would at least have a friend in her spouse, someone she could talk to and be herself with-- for many girls they had to settle for far less and much more unhappy unions.

She finally offered her a soft smile and returned the squeeze of her hands "there was no one else" the redhead assured her. "I've known from a young age that I would have to marry who my family chose and as far as the matches they could have made for me either ethically or other wise I believe you are the best-- not because you are a princess but because you are kind and willing to build a relationship outside of an arranged marriage."

To Penelope being able to be happy was something she feared she would never have-- and yet she did thought perhaps she would have that with Anne. The other woman was lovely thus far and far more forgiving than she had hoped to not blame her for her mother's actions.

#bcbliophile #;the spanish queen #queued

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hearkenedsouls · 3 days

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ALEKSANDER KIRIGAN ▸ Shadow & Bone, 1.2

#;photos #;queued #;mirror #;the seafaring king

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hearkenedsouls · 3 days

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As Mary brought her face closer towards her, the Queen closed the distance and left a tender, loving kiss on her soft lips. "I am certain I can think of some activities to keep us entertained over the coming months," she teased, and she playfully rubbed their noses together.

She pulled back just a little further, so she could properly admire Mary's beautiful features, and one of her hands reached upwards to cup her cheek. "I love you," she murmured.

❝ SHE GIGGLED WHILE she watched Anne's reaction to the news. "I imagine I do not rank so high on Louis' priorities compared to two Duke's and an Earl amongst others who are here."

Mary's fingers threaded into Anne's hair, careful so as not to disturb it too much lest someone become suspicious when they exit. "That could never happen, I assure you." She brought her face closer to her lovers, unable to control the curve of her lips. "I am to be your companion again like last time."

#iomamuise #;the spanish queen #//squeaaaaals

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hearkenedsouls · 4 days

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He hid his surprise behind a faintly amused smile, carefully examining the swollen limb, his fingertips pressing softly against the bruised skin. "You are lucky. The bone remains intact."

❝ ——— 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 presented her arm to the doctor. "Thank you. My sister's kite got tangled in a tree. My landing after getting it down was rather dramatic."

#iomamuise #;the kind hearted doctor

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hearkenedsouls · 4 days

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The easy smile that had adorned his lips at the sound of Lucy's voice vanishes instantly at her words, and his eyes dropped to the red stain on her side. The chair at his desk clatters to the ground at the speed of his movement towards her.

"What happened?" he demands, effortlessly scooping her up in his arms and striding across the cabin to place her on his bed. "May I...?" he asks, but his fingers are already searching through the fabric of her clothing, locating the source of the blood.

"Where is your cordial?" he asks. He'd learnt some of treating wounds - useful on the battlefield - and he could even stitch a gash in the skin if need be, but he would certainly prefer to use magic than rely on his shaky handiwork.

@hearkenedsouls (requested starter for Caspian from Lucy)

Shakily, Lucy strides uneasily to Caspian's cabin. Her teeth gritting with resolve as the movements only cause the pain the spiderweb outwards.

Having been granted permission to enter, she foregoes the usual greetings. “I might have a --- a small problem, and it’s probably not that serious, but… I’m maybe, sort of, bleeding. A lot.” Her jaw tightens as she reveals her crimson-tainted side.

And, though she is loathe to divulge such information, her healing cordial vile had been dropped in the swift evacuation of the island. When she had turned to get it, Eustace and Edmund had grabbed hold of her. In the undercurrent of her quivering voice, she recollected Edmund's age old question-- what happens to a person if they die in Narnia?

#timeguardians #;the seafaring king #//lol sorry i'm sure lucy was capable of walking that far but caspain has other ideas XD

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