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He has, amazingly, managed to get some rest. Admittedly, most of it had been imperfect--falling asleep on the arm of the chair he'd been ushered to sit in while waiting for a warm meal.

But he's awake now. He's awake, and he's got worry lit bright in his eyes as he moves a step closer to where the gentle Queen is standing.

"You have?"

"We have."

And it's good news, really. It's not exactly what he wanted, perhaps, but they're not leaving the Telmarines out to dry.

"It-- is not quite what you are asking for, but we believe it will be better for all of us in the long run."

He can't help the way tension seeps back into his shoulders. He can't help that he inhales just a bit nervously.

"Oh?"

But it will be fine. They'll find a way to phrase it right. He'll be able to bring back something that his father will accept and his uncle will... allow.

Right?

"Yes."

And she'll wave for him to take a seat as she does. It's better if they're both something like comfortable while they have this discussion.

"We have determined that while we-- don't feel it wise to house all of your people within our own borders, we do believe we can help you by trying to help you tackle the problems caused by the famine."

Edited 2014-01-08 06:00 (UTC)

Sitting doesn't take away the tension. Worse, her words don't take away the tension.

There needs to be a slow, steady exhale before he can properly work through the fact that it really isn't just a 'no.' There's absolutely a bit of a fumble, another shifting to the edge of his seat, as he tries to get words in order.

"...how?"

"Part of the reason for Narnia's renewed bounty is because of the Narnians who work the land."

And, of course, those of the land who helped contributed to its health.

"If you think your people would be amenable, we are quite certain they would be happy to return with you to Telmar to see if there is some way to help encourage crop growth. While they do this, we would help to provide aid as best as we can to match the need you currently face."

It's such a reasonable compromise. It's one he's certain he could take back to his father and plead into working, particularly with a collection of men and talking beasts at his side ready to assist in regrowing their little rebellious kingdom.

But he could not bring it to his uncle. He could not fully believe in his heart that envoys sent in his protection to aid Telmar would not come to the brunt of his uncle's rage and sword.

"...and how shall I explain that to desperate men, your Grace?" There's a low, genuine nervousness in his voice. There's something between certainty and terror in his eyes. "I do not-- ask because I do not understand your position, but-- because I fear the minds of men who are beyond listening to compromise."

"And are these men in the position to-- do harm to those who would aid them?"

She suspects so. Desperate people do desperate things.

"This is the best offer we are willing to give Telmar now, after all."

"You have seen war, Queen Susan." He knows it. He knows these kings and queens have been baptized in war and come out with a strong, prosperous kingdom for it. "But you have not seen war with the sons of Telmar."

And there's no pride in saying it. There's instead something very much like sadness.

"I have-- seen some of your kingdom, Highness, and it-- is a beautiful land. But it is not a land prepared to do war with steel and fire."

"Proclaiming war against Narnia would be more likely to destroy what you have come here hoping to gain," she reminds him, even though she knows that it's not necessarily him making the threat of war.

At least this one son of Telmar hopes for peace. She knows this much.

"Would those who so desire war risk that?"

It isn't very diplomatically savvy, he knows, to show signs of emotion. He can't help the need to briefly duck his head, press his face to his hands and then run his fingers through his own hair.

"Those who desire war are those who-- would rather see our men fall in battle than starve in a field."

Not men who genuinely wanted to save their people.

There's a cold sort of disapproval to her expression-- not directed at him, but at the men he speaks of. No leader should want their people's death, even an honorable one, over their safety.

"Then who would be able to say for certain that even if we were to give freely what they seek, they would not simply take more than they were offered?"

Those kind of men are not welcome in Narnia.

"I'm not certain we could."

He wasn't certain, after all, that his uncle and the men following the warhawks wouldn't have launched an attack on the Cair the moment they'd been granted safe passage close enough. He wasn't certain that the famine was actually foremost in everyone's mind.

"But it would be-- a better bargaining chip to sway our people. We don't have a... clearly delineated leadership holding Telmar together, your Highness. People are-- looking for someone to rally behind. Someone who can promise them the most stability and safety."

And he'd like it to be his father. He'd like it to involve peaceful negotiations, the actual rebuilding of their small nation. Not his uncle. Not a baptism in war.

"But wouldn't your people feel most stable and safe, knowing that they could restore their homeland, as opposed to be scattered throughout someone else's?"

It's what they're offering. It's what she would choose, if given such a choice.

"You and your people have been raised to create, my Lady." And he saw the beauty in it. He saw the value. He knew there were Telmarines who would very much see the same. But... "Mine are raised to challenge."

And sometimes that was a good thing. It had certainly earned them their own spot in the world--had kept them afloat in most of recent history. But.

"I will do what I can to reason with the generals, but we've been bred primed to take what we need, not work quietly for it."

She shakes her head just slightly, amazed at the vastly different life the Telmarines led.

"We will keep that in mind as we continue to work with your kingdom and determine what other courses of action we may take. But meanwhile, I hope you will be able to accept what we are giving you now."

He wants to hold his head high. He wants to be able to speak firmly on behalf of his people--to be a proper voice for his people, even.

But he needs a moment. He can't stop his eyes from closing, or one hand from lifting to rub briefly rub at his eyes before he can come back to sitting properly and meeting her gaze.

He's not so much younger than Lucy or Edmund. It just feels like a thousand years difference. "Give me-- another day. Please. I'm not saying you-- ought keep considering, just-- let me stay another day."

And plot on his own how to bring this back to the colony.

"Of course. Take as long as you need."

And perhaps they would be able to come up with a better solution for him, while he stays. She wants to, both for Narnia's sake and for this young man here, representing a nation.

"Thank you, Highness."

And he knows it's time to leave-- to return to where they've let him rest, exist, think. It's just standing to leave finds him quite unsteady on his feet.

"You're welcome."

And she's about to turn away when he starts to waver. Her hand finds his arm, the touch clearly concerned.

"--Are you well?"

Perhaps not the best way to ask the question, the circumstances being what they are.

At least her hand is holding him up. It's mostly stabilizing--mostly sets him right again, although he still looks a bit uncertain on his feet.

"...worried, your Grace. That's all."

And, for the first time, truly under the weight of a nation which was his only by the birthright of being one of them.

"...We'll make it right, sir Caspian."

And it's not a promise-- can't be-- but it's still a fairly confident assurance.

"I'm certain if we but look hard enough we can find a solution that will work."

And he is a part of that 'we.' Has to be, for this to happen well.

They all have to be. In fact, quite a few people back in Telmar will have to be as well.

And none of them can promise yet. But here and now, he can squeeze carefully back at her arm and try his hardest to smile.

"I dearly hope so, Highness."

"As do I."

And for now, hope will have to carry them through.