Elrik hisses in pain as Jonathan tightens the fresh bandage around his arm. A faint chuckle leaves the medic's lips. It doesn't surprise him anymore. He has seen seasoned men flinch and cry at the slightest pain, comes with the profession. Then again, it did surprise him when he treated cuts and bruises of the king or his Crown Shield on their long journey. Mostly, his healing touch didn't elicit even a twitch. As if on cue both their gazes wander to the opposite side of the cabin where Luna's cot is half-hidden behind a makeshift paravent. The warrior barley moves in her prolonged sleep, her chest rising and falling with irregular dropouts.

» How is she? « Elrik's question is quiet. He doesn't wish to disturb her rest, nor the king sitting by her side. Jon draws his chin towards his chest, hands fiddling with the ends of the bandage,

» No change. « Elrik sighs. Two days ago, his friend evaded death once – and countless times before – and what for? Only for that bastard to cowardly strike her down. His jaw clenches at the image of the slave traders' chief laughing as the Devil's Tide vanished in the night behind the Dawn Treader. He laughed despite the Narnians' victory over the pirates. Elrik doesn't question that victory – that would dishonour Luna's deed. Without a doubt she saved many lives from being sold as slaves or death itself. Yet, the Narnians paid a price and still have no idea how high it will be. Plus, Pug getting away once more nags at everyone. Since the Dawn Treader's lassie was brought in the med bay and Jon did everything he could, the crew visits and asks the doctor about her constantly. No one likes to think about where they would be without her, well, and the mermaid.

A knock at the door announces Halion's presence. The large man pokes his head inside. Elrik nods at him, sliding off the cot. Thanking the doctor, he leaves to make room for the next patient. They shuffle around quietly, almost reverently. But nothing would draw Caspian's attention anyway. He has not left her side, refused to lay down. So, Jon had to treat him right there. To say, the doc is concerned, puts it mildly. The king sustained many injuries. They will heal but he shouldn't strain himself and rest – which he flat out refuses to do. As far as Jon can tell, he barley slept a few hours since – of course, leaning on the side of her bed. All that, however, is not the doctor's main concern. The physical health can be restored despite unideal circumstances, the king is young and healthy. His mind, his soul, seems to have taken a harder blow.

Halion reaches to cot surprisingly quiet, only glancing over at the couple as if afraid to intrude on them. The sailor shrugs off his shirt without so much as a huff at the pain it must cause him. He took an arrow to the left upper arm – yet pays it little mind and keeps working with both hands. Jon sighs at the sight of the bloodied bandage, mumbling a curse on the stubbornness of his patients and gets to work.

*

Drinian slams his hand flat on the wall, grumbling a curse.

» Now, now, captain, that would be most improper a speech in the presence of a lady. « He whirls around at the voice, immediately straightening upon recognizing the High Lady of the Seven Isles. Although she is not a tall woman, her aura commands respect. Drinian's lips form a straight line as he bows his head.

» Apologies, Your Ladyship, I wasn't aware- «

» That I would come down here? « She smiles, mildly amused, and waves his apology off, leaning in,

» I won't tell if you don't. « A strand of red hair comes loose from her updo, softening her features. Drinian raises an eyebrow but bows his head once again, he can't really place the head of these lands yet. But, on their first visit, she was most forthcoming – now even more so after she heard of the pirate's attack on the Dawn Treader one and a half a day's sail from the Seven Isles, in a labyrinth of rock islands, and all that happened since.

As the smile falls from her lips, the wrinkles around her eyes flatten. Her entire demeanour changes from the prior amusement to strict business.

» What did they share? « Drinian only shakes his head,

» They don't know much 'bout Pug's plans. « Lady Antiope glances over to the prison cells holding the two pirates. Her eyes grow steely,

» That is for my most skilled men to determine. If you'll allow, of course. « The captain studies her for a moment. Since the Dawn Treader dropped anchor in Redhaven, he called upon the lady and manages all affairs – Caspian still refuses to leave Luna's side. Lady Antiope sent for the best doctors already and ordered provisions to stock up the ship. While Drinian – and an insistent Rynelf – accompanied the prisoners to their cells and interrogated them, the rest of the crew take on any repairs. After their misfortune and the entire day overseeing things, Drinian is tired. Still, he's not ready to give these pirates out of his hands.

» That ain't the Narnian way, m'lady, I'm not sure the king would approve, « the captain treads carefully. After what he witnessed during the battle at sea and since, he is not entirely sure how Caspian would decide. Knowing the king, he would never take such means. Then again, the pirates took much from the Narnians – three good men dead, many injured, among them the king himself, and the lassie in danger still. No, Drinian simply can't bring himself to agree, no matter what they did. Aslan wouldn't approve. Justice at the cost of someone in pain and suffering is not right.

» With all due respect, captain, « the High Lady looks him straight in the eye and speaks almost angrily,

» He is my king as well and came to misfortune in my territory, I cannot tolerate this. « Her sincerity lets Drinian shudder, new determination running through him,

» Let me try once more, my lady. « He certainly won't allow the culprits to get away with this. He needs information and as soon as they return to Narnia the hunt for Pug will begin, so Aslan help them!

*

Caspian wrings his hands, absentmindedly rubbing his wrists while watching the medics gathered around Luna's cot. Jon presents his findings, and they discuss further treatment. The king had to stand aside as the medics from the Seven Isles arrived. They are about to begin another examination as Jon approaches Caspian.

» Sire, I must insist you rest now. « His eyes flicker to his beloved's sleeping form, then to the doctor. He would like to refuse but he knows Jon also suggested this to spare him – they cannot diagnose yet and he shouldn't listen to all possibilities. A heavy sigh leaves his lips, and he gives a nod.

» If anything changes... call me at once. « The ship's doctor promises to do so before ushering the king out.

Without anything to do, he decides to retire to the small cabin he shared with Ed and Eustace. As the four lords moved onto the ship, Luna vacated the King's cabin. Now, Cas and she sleep hammock next to hammock. Even as Aslan sent the lords and most of the saved Lone Islanders home, she didn't take the larger cabin back. He still admires that not a single word of complaint came over her lips at any of it, not at any point of the journey, least of all the loss of convenience and luxury. Her only protest was his willingness to endanger himself. A half-hearted smile graces his lips. More memories rush over him and it soon becomes too much to bear. Caspian closes his eyes; hot tears roll over his cheeks. Pressing a hand in front of his mouth, a sob shakes him. Shoulders drawn up, he bends over, trying to breathe. What would he give for a single glance into her eyes, see her smile, hear her laugh, hold her close in a warm embrace. The metallic taste on his tongue lets him release his lips and cheeks from between his teeth. Another sob forces the King of Narnia to his knees. His hands flatten against the rough planks. He should pray, but he can't bring himself to form words, not even thoughts. Icy fear and hot anger battle in his heart. Luna- If he hadn't let himself be captured by the pirates, if he had paid more attention, none of this would have happened. Hand balling into fists, Caspian curses everything before a supressed wail leaves him struggling for breath. His bandaged wounds sting, muscles screaming from strain and exhaustion. He wants to roar it all out, the pain, the helplessness, the sheer desperation. Yet he wishes for sleep to take him into a dreamless darkness, numbing everything, shutting the world out.

Caspian has no idea how long he remained in that hunched over pose on the floor. Could have been minutes or hours. With a deep sigh he dries his tears of worry and exhaustion, finally opening his eyes. Without another sound he slips into his hammock, staring at the empty one next to his until long needed sleep finally overcomes him.

*

A few hours later the king scrambles up, blinking and looking around the small cabin – he needs a few moments to come to himself. His thoughts swirl of dreams and memories in a thick, undividable soup. Was it all a nightmare, a fever imagination? But too soon everything comes rushing back with a force that presses the air from his lungs. Barley paying any mind to making himself presentable, he rises. He should return to her side, that's where he is supposed to be. Before, he carefully opens the chest she keeps her possessions in, fishing out a clean and folded nightgown. Then, he makes for the healing cabin – where he is promptly turned away as a young female novice from the Seven Isles tends to Luna right now. Jon thanks the king for thinking of fresh clothes for the lassie and shortly explains Novice Tary will sail with them. Caspian only nods at that.

On deck, the fresh air fills his lungs. Ignoring the straining pain he takes a few deep breaths, gazing out towards the horizon – the utter east they have reached what feels like years prior lays tucked away between the blue of sky and seas. Anaru brought a sandwich for the king, and he managed to eat most of it. Now, he wanders aimlessly over the middle deck. The crew work quietly. As he passes Tingel and Rynelf changing a few ropes, one slips from their grasp and both huff in frustration. Rynelf lets out a colourful variety of curses. The king raises an eyebrow, not used to such behaviour - no one dared to use such swearing while a lady was around. Luna's heavy injury and absence in the daily routine sets everyone on edge as it seems. Cas didn't think of that before. Oddly, knowing he isn't entirely alone in his fear calms his nerves. Rynelf looks up to the king from his kneeling position by the railing. Their eyes meet, yet the first ship's mate doesn't apologize – not that Caspian would have expected it. Tingel wipes his hands on his trousers before fastening the knot.

» I don't like to address the seal in the cabin, « the dwarf huffs,

» But I miss our lassie. And the ol' Majesties. «

» An' Sir Mouse, « adds Rynelf. The loss of their friends was felt heavily after they set sail from the End of the World, still is. Of course, the crew remained a family – if not even closer by everything that happened. Now, the last ropes holding them together fray. Cursing, bad manners and fights flood them like an incoming tide. Caspian stands quietly next to the two sailors, realizing he simply can't disappear by his beloved's side – as much as he would like to shut out anything and anyone to dwell in his hurt alone. Everyone is hurting and on edge with Luna's uncertain condition, and currently everyone is suffering by themselves. As king, as a friend, he cannot allow that to continue.

A splash alerts all three. Rynelf and Tingel are first to lean over the railing. Slower, Caspian follows, looking down into the slightly muddy harbour water. Dark purple scales shimmer through the surface before a head appears between the gentle waves.

» Oi! « Rynelf greets the mermaid. Though always wary of the magical beings they encountered, his suspicion towards Timea fades since she helped them in the battle at sea. The serious expression of her eyes flickers slightly as the sailors greet her. She lifts a webbed hand to wave at them before her gaze finds the king and she tilts her head to the side. There is no need for her to speak, he understands her question – she is concerned for her human friend. Timea's thirst to see the world and Luna are the only reasons the mermaid followed the Dawn Treader and now remains close by. Caspian's heart tightens – so many fear for the Crown Shield's life. Of course he knew this but pushed it to the back of his mind as worry and grief took over. Now, he shakes his head. No change.

*

As the king finally returns to the healing cabin, to find Jon sorting fresh supplies into the cupboards and Elrik sitting by his beloved's side, whispering to her. Even now, against his good judgement and the unending stream of dread, despite knowing them to be friends since the war, seeing the sailor so close to her, holding her cool hand in his larger one, patting it with the other... It ignites a fire in Caspian's belly, stinging his heart like the prick of a needle. How foolish, he now thinks. He would give everything to see them joke around again, to be jealous in peace.

Briefly, Elrik looks up as the king steps closer before returning his attention to Luna. Her chest rises and falls but she won't wake up. The two men remember well bringing her into this cabin, barley conscious then. Jon had them hold her down as he removed the bolt of Pug's crossbow and cleaned the wound. After a trash she remained still, whimpering in pain. One hand fisted the blanket while the other held onto Caspian with an iron grip. She shut her eyes tightly, clenching her jaw, entire body tense. All three told her everything was going to be fine, reassuring and consoling the wounded warrior to the best of their ability. While Jon had his work to distract him, Elrik soon had to calm the king and his Crown Shield. More so as Luna slipped entirely into unconsciousness.

Elrik sighs, squeezing her hand before rising. The two men exchange a glance and a nod, then Caspian is left alone with his beloved. With a pained grunt he sinks onto the stool by her bedside, both hands cupping hers. The blanket is pulled up to her chest – it must have been changed as the old one was stained with red. Even though he slept a while, leaden fatigue weighs on him. The king leans his forehead against her shoulder, trying to swallow the building lump in his throat. Seeing her like this again, the rims of the bandages visible underneath her nightdress, the faint smell of blood and medicine lingering in the air... Fresh tears well up in his eyes. Everything was good, they were good for once, only to be ripped apart again. Without realizing at first, his lips part in silent prayer. He doesn't want to be angry at Aslan, none of this is His doing. But how could He bless them and now allow this to claim her, take her away? More tears fall, wetting Luna's shoulder. What was it all for then, a hope for nothing? Caspian takes a shuddering breath, trying to push the anger away. He lifts his head and hands, bringing Luna's skin to his lips. I am sorry, he prays again, humbler now. It wasn't Aslan's fault, in the end, it was his own. Had he searched for Pug after their first encounter! Right after the Battle on the Main Square he should have immediately locked down the island until that pirate was found and brought to justice. Then, none of this would have happened.

After a while, Caspian leans back, tracing the engraving on Rhindon, which he wears since a sailor brought it to him during the battle at sea. It was once Highking Peter's sword. Both sides read lines from an old poem, a prophecy, from before Narnia's Golden Era. Caspian is deep in thought. He has seen much – fire, war, life to its fullest and death at its worst. Now, however, there's only little left. His joy crumbled with her to the ground. After all, peace never seems to hold – he never wanted to believe it, dismissing his advisors' negative perspectives. And still, even with his soul in utter darkness, there is a part of him that won't let go, refuses to give up. There is always hope, Reep never tired to point this out. The king pushes Rhindon back into its sheath, right hand wandering to his chest pocket. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't lost in the chaos of the fight, Cas was relieved to find the ring remained with him. He pulls it out, toying with the small circle.

» I'll keep it safe for you. «

*

The return of the medics alerts the entire crew. A few hours ago they thoroughly examined Luna. Now, they come together to discuss their findings. This time, Cas refuses to budge. He sits by her side while the medics and Jon surround the cot. One of them produces the bolt who caused her injury from his satchel,

» As you suspected, this was coated with henbane. « The middle-aged man speaks to Jon, passing the weapon to his younger companion to have his hands free to pull out a vial.

» This is the antidote, though... « he glances at the king,

» If she had too much of it in her system before, this could explain this comatose state. «

» I agree, « an older woman gestures to Luna's pale face,

» Along with the blood loss, this could prove fatal. « Cas lets out a huff as if someone punched him. The woman holds up a hand,

» Yet, it could also save her life. « Jon swoops in to explain this further,

» The body is forced to rest and could recover faster. « New blood is produced, and the poison excreted.

» Still, there is no say if she will survive, « the man concludes,

» But she has a chance as her lungs, nor any other vital organ seem to be damaged. « So there is hope. The king releases a long breath, contemplating this new information. Then, it hits him. Yes, Luna evaded death once, but it may still catch up to her now. He springs to his feet, earning confused glances.

» Jonathan, the cordial of Queen Lucy! It can heal everything, even bring back someone at the brink of death. « The medics exchange looks holding many thoughts at once while Jon tilts his head to the side, pinching his nose. By the mane, why didn't he think of that? Then again, this could help, yes, as it was made for wounds and illnesses, but what if it reacts with the poison?

The matter is discussed and despite the middle-aged medic remains sceptical, they agree it is better to try than let the young woman suffer like this. Caspian sends for the vial and Jon takes him aside,

» Please, the cordial could ease her pain, but we don't know how much the henbane damaged... « The medic catches the king's gaze, trying to warn him as the words won't come over his lips. After a moment, Cas bows his head, briefly closing his eyes,

» I understand. « Yet, his heart pounds.