Trumpkin was not exactly certain of his own choice of a messenger – though he didn’t have particularly high regard for squirrels, he had heard that Pattertwig was especially fast, and that was important. Hopefully he wouldn’t get distracted by something shiny or find a nut collection which needed completion along the way. Not that it would matter much, anyway, assuming that the Kings and Queens everyone was going on about didn’t show up… but in the case that they did, well, it would be amazing enough on its own. It would take even more of a miracle for them to be found by a squirrel who was focused enough to get to the potential meeting place properly, at the right place, the right time. Perhaps Aslan would exist after all, if such a thing occurred. But all Trumpkin knew was that he had to trust his instincts now. He was going to the place where he was most likely to find their precious heroes, if they existed and were to arrive here, and he was secretly proud that he had been chosen for an honor.
He was also surprised, and yet somehow not surprised, that Caspian had so eagerly agreed to his plan of sorts. After all, he was only a Dwarf, not the most loyal, most intelligent, or even most handsome of the bunch. It was strange to have a prince listening to him, and hearing his ideas as if they actually meant something. He had never experienced that before – at least not from someone in power, especially not someone as powerful as a human boy, and a prince of the hated race of the Telmarines, no less! If someone had predicted that this were to happen, he would have laughed at them, long and loud and hard. It was surprising enough that a Telmarine was here at all, and that he was still alive. So, in a way, even though he had been a prince in his own land, Caspian was not much of a prince here. He was gradually earning the Narnians’ respect, but it had been difficult, obviously, seeing as how he was a Telmarine. They had to help each other if they were going to accomplish anything, either of them, and Trumpkin was beginning to be made aware of the fact that he was Caspian’s last hope – and the rest of the Narnians of course. He was only a scared little boy, he was, when it came down to it. And it certainly had.
“Yes, I’m sure ’e would.” In spite of himself, the Dwarf issued a quiet chuckle in response to Caspian’s words about Pattertwig jumping at the chance to be of aid. He could just picture it. A happy Squirrel was likely to shake a whole tree in his excitement, all by himself. He shook his head slowly before looking up at Caspian, processing his words with effort. Things seemed to all be happening rather fast, but he supposed that was necessary now, with the way things were going. It seemed they had been waiting for this a thousand years – and though not Trumpkin personally, the Narnians truly had. Trumpkin nodded then, sobering instantly.
“As you say, hrm…” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider something before continuing,
“yourr Majesty,” with considerably more certainty. He pursed his dry lips, wetting them with his tongue and looking almost nervous.
“If I may speak freely…” (as if he had not been already!)
“…I can only say I hope this works as much as you do. It’s our last chance, it is. That is to say, I mean, that you are.” His eyes met Caspian's gravely, unwaveringly.
"And I'm glad of that." It was not something he normally would have admitted, but these were dire times indeed. He ducked his head in a semblance of a bow, and then moved to duck out, dismissed.
((ooc: Sorry it’s late and short and bad… but I think that finishes this thread, unless you have anything else you need/want Caspian to say! Thanks
))
CotM - Mar. 2010
Storyline
It was just a little fun, lighten up. (rubs his cheek) You're lucky you're a lady, else I'd have boxed your ears.
