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I let out a sigh. “Eustace, you have to keep your blade up.”
Eustace jerked the sword sharply, almost hitting a rope that held one of the Dawn Treader’s sails in place. “I don’t believe in people swinging pointy objects to draw blood as a show of masculinity,” Eustace said with a grumble. “The whole thing is a barbaric practice, and I don’t hold with it.”
I lifted my eyes to the picturesque clouds above, clinging to my patience like a port in a storm. “Maybe you don’t hold with it,” I said patiently, looking back at the grouchy boy, “but it’s better to have the skill and never have to use it than to need it and not have it.”
Eustace eyed me accusingly. “Ladies shouldn’t fight.”
A snort came from behind me, and I glanced to see Edmund peeling a potato with his knife. “Eustace, are you including yourself in that category then?”
“I’ll make you pay for that, cousin,” Eustace replied, his cheeks bright red.
Edmund paused in his task. “How, if you can’t even use a sword?”
Eustace started mumbling, but I knew enough advisors back in Narnia to know if it was a real argument, he wouldn’t bother saying it quietly.
I brandished my sword a little, trying to get him to cue back into my teachings. “Ok, attack me.”
Eustace started to protest, but I cut him off, repeating my request.
He warily raised his blade before swiping it at me.
I merely angled my head back slightly to get out of the blade’s path. “Put more force behind your swing.” He tried again, but I blocked it, resulting in a loud clang that made the boy wince. “You have to keep your arm steady and put pressure behind your blade to keep me from pushing you back.”
Eustace leaned his weight forward as he struck again. I stepped to the side, and Eustace tumbled forward, running into the railing and nearly losing his blade over the side.
“Balance, Eustace.” I tapped his side, and he jerked upright again, flushing.
We practiced for another half-hour. He was panting and mopping up his forehead as I stood, barely winded.
“Break…please…” he wheezed.
I smiled encouragingly at him as I sheathed my sword. “Okay. We can do more later.”
Eustace walked to the stairs in that odd shuffling way of his, holding the sword with stiff arms and stiffer shoulders.
Shaking my head, I sat down on a crate beside Edmund. “You’d have better luck trying to put a muzzle on Reepicheep,” he said with a smirk.
The sailors in earshot all laughed.
“I heard that,” Reepicheep called from his perch on the upper deck.
Edmund held up his hands in surrender and returned to his peeling.
The sound of lively footfalls reached my ears, and my cheeks blushed before my brain even processed who the footfalls belonged to.
“Drinian says we should be able to see the Lone Islands in a few hours.” Caspian leaned on the deck railing, and I ducked my head, cursing the heat that was now expanding down my neck at the sight of his generous forearms.
Edmund gestured at me with his knife. “You missed the show, Caspian. Y/N was trying to teach Eustace to wield a sword.”
I would strangle him the next time we were alone.
Even though I wasn’t looking at Caspian, I could swear I felt the moment the king’s gaze fell on me. Doing my best to keep an impassive face, I lifted my head.
Caspian let his hair grow out for this trip, and I had to admit, it did wobbly things to me whenever I saw it pulled back into a bun or ponytail. His jaw and shoulders had filled out these past few years, and even though his eyes were the same brown, they’d changed as well. They were deeper somehow, more solid.
They were dancing with mirth now.
“Y/N.” He rested his hands on his hips. “Teaching Eustace.”
“Yeah?” I stood and mirrored him, mocking his skeptical body language. “What of it?”
Caspian’s head tipped back as he laughed, exposing his neck, which was just as tan as the rest of him—he really had been spending a lot of time in the sun, hadn’t he? “I can’t see you teaching anyone to wield a sword.”
Once again, the sailors within earshot all laughed, even Edmund.
I raised an eyebrow at the king. “That’s rich, coming from someone who can’t hold his own against a hag.” The sailors all “ooh”ed, waiting for Caspian’s rebuttal.
“A hag, you say?” Caspian’s lips were slightly pulled to one side, indicating his amusement.
“Yes, a hag.” I folded my arms, jutting out one hip. “I distinctly remember having to kill one before she killed you.”
The sailors started to gather, all with grins on their faces. They could tell where this was leading.
Caspian didn’t look at them, his eyes not budging so much as a centimeter from mine. “You think you could beat me?” His tone was low, not at all befitting the taunt he’d just thrown my way.
Before I could answer, he pulled his sword out of the scabbard, holding it off to the side with casual confidence, daring me to take him up on his challenge.
I placed my hands on my chest in feigned nerves. “Oh, it wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Muttering erupted on the deck as the sailors watched me, confused at my sudden concession. “I know!” I said, causing the muttering to cease. “We can tie one hand behind my back.”
The sailors all howled with laughter.
And when Caspian smiled, I could’ve sworn I saw a sparkle in his eye. “Alright,” he said, extending his sword towards me, the point of it a foot away from my nose. “First to disarm wins.”
Baying erupted from around me as the sailors eagerly waited for my response.
Before their cacophony of hoots and hollers could die out, I whipped out my own sword, swinging it above my head.
Caspian’s rose to meet it, our swords flashing in the sun as a great clang rang out. The sailors around us started loudly making bets, but I shut them out as Caspian parried my blade.
I stepped forward, swiping at Caspian’s torso. He blocked the strike with ease, pushing my sword back much the same way I’d pushed Eustace’s. I allowed him to push me a step backwards, my sword breaking contact with his.
Caspian grinned and took a step away. I advanced, stabbing my sword in the general area of his right shoulder and then his left, getting deflected both times.
I released a barrage of hits, Caspian meeting me step for step.
There was a strange intimacy in being so well matched in such a dangerous dance. It took only the subtlest of our partners’ movements to follow the steps—a flick of the eyes, a twist of the wrist—and the clang of our swords was the perfect soundtrack to our fevered yet balanced pace. How could the brush of my steel with Caspian be such a soft thing?
The crowd of sailors around us was its own creature, shifting to make room as Caspian and I went round and round the deck. Their cheers stroked the buzzing rivalry in my chest. The wry smile on Caspian’s face told me he felt it too.
Even if I’d wanted to contain my glee, I wouldn’t have been able to, and when I ducked to avoid Caspian’s swing, my smile broke through.
Caspian stumbled.
It was the smallest thing, barely even a hiccup, but his blade caught mine at the wrong angle. His wrist twisted, his fingers loosened, and I didn’t even think twice before taking advantage.
I put all available force into my next strike, and the clang of Caspian’s sword on the deck was music to my ears. I dared a glance at the oohing crew, ready to celebrate my victory, until his foot came flying up to hit my hand, causing me to yelp and drop my own sword.
Fingers stinging, I raised an eyebrow at the king. “You didn’t tell me we were fighting dirty.”
“Scared?” Caspian said lowly.
“No.” Before Caspian had time to reply, I leapt forward, drawing my knife.
Caspian took a step back, but he didn’t seem to realize the ship’s mast was right behind him, for he collided with it.
Jumping on the opportunity, I lifted the knife to Caspian’s throat, holding him tightly in place against the wood with my body. The sailors hooted like monkeys, crowing so loudly about my success, that I didn’t have to say anything myself.
“Do you yield?” I asked anyway, banishing the thoughts about just how big Caspian’s stature was compared to mine.
A lesser man would’ve looked at the witnesses with insecurity. But Caspian just smiled at me, so smugly, one would’ve thought he’d been the one to win the duel. “I yield.”
I stepped away, strangely disappointed in spite of my victory.
“Alright, fun’s over,” Drinian called over the hubbub. “Back to work.”
The group around us started to disband, and I could’ve sworn I heard the clinking of coins exchanging hands.
Caspian bent down, picking up both swords rising to his feet, holding the hilt of my sword out to me. I wrapped my hand around it, ready for its familiar weight.
But he didn’t let go.
Instead, he tugged on the sword, pulling me off balance. My free hand splayed out in surprise before landing solidly on his chest. I looked stupidly up into his face, one hand on his chest, the other still around the hilt of my sword. The blasted heat rushed back into my cheeks as I tried not to fall into his brown eyes.
“Good match,” he said simply, not letting go of the sword.
I debated moving my hand, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable with our current position. “It was,” I mumbled. He still didn’t let go of the sword. “You fought well,” I said, and then cringed, pulling my hand away. Could I not go an entire minute without making a complete fool of myself?
He still didn’t let go of the sword. “I fought well,” Caspian echoed, peering into my face. “Is that all I get from you? I would’ve thought you’d have more compliments for me.”
I wished I could blame my blinks on the brightness of the sun, but I felt the heat of its rays on my back, not my face. Did he know? Had Edmund told him something? Was he fishing for some sort of confession? My heart sped up alongside my thoughts.
But as I studied his broad smile, I knew he wasn’t mocking me, only jesting. Very well. Two could play in that game.
“I always have compliments for you.”
Caspian hummed. “Like what?”
“I think you’re brave.” My words were hushed, but I could tell he heard me, for his eyes widened slightly. Encouraged, I continued. “Perseverant. Generous.”
“Generous?” Caspian let out a breath that sounded like a laugh.
Was I imagining the sudden doubt that crossed his face? “You are. You do whatever you can for people, and you never seem to want or need anything as you lead.”
Caspian’s intent look could be compared to the sun in temperature and intensity
“That’s not true,” he replied, his voice slightly hoarse as his eyes dipped down to my lips. “I can think of at least one thing I need.”
Before I could process his words, he let go of my sword and stepped away.
“Y/N,” he said in acknowledgement before walking away.
I watched him go, trying to cool the heat in my cheeks with the back of my hands. Feeling stunned, I returned to my seat beside Edmund.
“I saw that,” Edmund said, smirking.
“I don’t care,” I replied, trying to bring my breathing back to normal.
He chuckled. “You might as well have kissed him, it’s not like anyone on board doesn’t see it.” There was a muffled thud below decks, and the whiny voice of Edmund’s cousin immediately rang out. “Except for maybe Eustace,” Edmund said with a smile.
I rolled my eyes, getting back to my feet. “I’m going down to find Lucy.”
Edmund’s laughter chased me down the steps.
“Stupid boy,” I grumbled as I walked around the barrels and bags of supplies in the hold. “Stupid, self-righteous, good for nothing, crazy–”
“I hope you’re not talking about me.”
I jumped, whirling around to face a smirking Caspian, leaning against a barrel of water. “Caspian! What are you doing down here?”
“Waiting for you.” Caspian cocked his head. “You’re so predictable.”
I gawked at him. “What?”
“Predictable.” He advanced another step.
“I heard you,” I barked, heat racing to my cheeks as I backed up. “I am not predictable. I am original. And unexpected. And unique.” Caspian’s lips twitched, and my temper flared. “I beat you. If I’m oh so predictable, then why would you fight me? If you really knew I would win, you wouldn’t have challenged me.”
Caspian stepped closer again. “Oh? And why’s that?”
I stumbled back another step. “Because no king wants to lose his pride in front of all his men.”
“Perhaps I was concerned with things other than my pride.” Caspian took another step nearer, and I stepped back, right into a tower of boxes.
I swallowed. “Like what?”
His only answer was to move forward again, his body only a hair’s width from touching mine, resting his hand against the box beside my head, trapping me. I barely had enough room to tilt my head back to look at him.
“What are you doing?” My voice was embarrassingly high and breathless, but I couldn’t have expected better, considering I could feel every rise and fall of his chest.
Warm fingers brushed against my cheek, causing my breath to hitch. “Well,” he said softly, resting his other hand on my hip, “I figure it’s my turn to pin you against something.”
I gaped at him, my heart undeniably pounding in my chest. “I, um, y-yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”
At my words, his grip on my waist tightened, and I braced my hands on his chest to stay balanced. His eyes twinkled, a playful smile spreading across his cheeks. “Do you yield?” he asked, parroting my words from earlier.
Taking all the time in the world, I leaned in, deliberately keeping my gaze on his lips. Caspian’s lips parted in anticipation. At the last moment, my eyes flicked up to look in his. “Never.”
Caspian didn’t look at all upset. No, the look on his face was something else, something infinitely more unsure, more tender, more vulnerable. I didn’t decipher what it was before he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
It lasted only a moment, not enough time for me to even close my eyes.
He ran the tip of his nose underneath my eye, towards my temple. “How about now?”
I slid my hands up to rest on his shoulders. “No, but you’re welcome to try again.” Caspian laughed, pulling away to allow me a view of his wide, dazzling grin. I waited for him to kiss me again, but he didn’t. He just stood there, holding me close and looking at my face like he wanted to write songs about it. “What?” I said defensively.
“Losing my pride was well worth it if it got me this close to you.”
“Charmer,” I mumbled just before his lips met mine again.