﹙ ＊ ﹚ &* @2usan: they tell me: you should be kinder. you are somehow furious. i used to be kind… it didn’t last long.
𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖. caspian sometimes fears this ancience, this legend might chip away at his compassion and understanding for her. not now, then ‒‒‒‒‒ not here, as susan confides in him an ugliness she cannot possibly claim as her own. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎’𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢. could anyone have blamed him then, young and star–blind? she was of the golden times ; 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜.
he’s cured himself of it ( it went naturally, like snow in spring ), but her humility still startles a laugh out of him. ❛❛ i’m sorry, ❜❜ defends the king, showing his palm as an offering of peace. ❛❛ i don’t mean to laugh. you have only been kind. ❜❜ 𝚌𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝙸, 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍, 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚗. caspian advances, lightly touches the elbow of susan’s embroidered gown. perhaps he loves her more now than he ever did when he arrogantly dared to picture her a bride. all human, and unnervingly so. he glimmers with humour in the twilight, brave enough to taunt her. ❛❛ 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎? point them out to me so that they may be punished. ❜❜