[A] In Over My Head {Lord Sephen!}

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[Character of the Month]

Character of the Month
Prince Caspian

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Played by Cara

"Cara has managed to...create a character that is both mythical and life-like. Impulsive, moody, and yet kind and good-hearted, Caspian is just beginning to show the makings of a true leader."
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[Prince Caspian]

The camp was always busy; there was so much to be done and increasingly less time to accomplish it in. Caspian was fuzzy on some of the details but of course he wasn’t going to admit that. There was so much happening at once, he had a difficult time keeping track of it all. As it was, he was having a difficult enough time keeping track of who was coming and going and, considering one past particular incident with Adimon, who’d gotten away while he was supposedly being “guarded”... well, he couldn’t be too careful. There was, however, one person in particular who was often going between the camps that he wanted to talk to. It seemed odd to him, the assisting of both sides of a war, but Caspian had heard about Lord Sephen and his noble attempts to keep the resistance, the rebellion as it were, as well stocked as he could manage. Without giving himself away as a traitor to Miraz, no less.

So Caspian was interested in speaking with him. They’d met, a couple of times, though the meetings had been fleeting and had been rather rushed. Nevertheless, the young prince wished to express his gratitude more personally; the man was helping them at great possible risk to himself and it ought to be recognized. He could see that many of the other Narnians didn’t trust Lord De La Braose. They were rare to trust humans at all – Caspian himself was certainly not exempt from this. He dealt with enough scorn, though it was thankfully lessening and he was slowly earning their trust. That’s all it took, time, and determination. He didn’t blame them for not being quick to trust. Especially him. It had been his ancestors who had taken this land from them. But he supposed that was why it had to be him to put it all to rights.

He stood and, upon hearing a commotion, peeked out of his tent. Perfect timing; the Lord Sephen was here with more supplies. Just who Caspian wanted to see. He had someone sent for the man and returned to his tent, surveying the scene. He wished he had somewhere better to receive guests but this would have to do for present. He looked forward to the day when he would be king, when Narnia would be properly restored, and he would have a better place to conduct his business.

And a bed, with pillows and quilts and warmth. He really longed for a real bed again. He missed the luxuries of being royalty.

But now wasn’t the time for that, he told himself, waiting impatiently for the good Lord De La Braose to be brought to him. There were other matters to concern himself with; this war took up all of his thoughts, all of his energy. And they hadn’t even properly gone to battle yet! It was a laugh of a war, was what it was. But Caspian was waiting; waiting for what, he was not completely sure. He ought to strike first and catch Miraz off guard but... he held out some hope that the help from the horn would come. Still, times were getting difficult, and someone had to make a move, and soon.

[Lord Sephen De La Braose]

To be perfectly honest, Sephen really wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up; he didn't doubt for a minute that it was only a matter of time before Miraz realized that he was being played for a sucker when Sephen showed up with fewer and fewer supplies for the Telmarine army. It didn't help either that he was having to trade at a faster pace already to try and keep up with Miraz's demands, faster than his fiefdom could manufacture them. In particular, crops were beginning to get disconcertingly close to the low point, and of course there was no faster way to grow them.

This caravan in particular was something of an improvisation; it consisted mostly of materials for smithing swords and armor and metal items, canvas for tents and a single potted fruit sapling, one that he had obtained by trading a Calormenian a few of his own possessions alongside the fruits of the fiefdom's labor. Maybe it was the length of the trip, but at this point, Sephen was really too tired to pay mind to the slight ruckus caused as his caravan made its way into the camp; he knew the Narnians recognized his family's standard by now, but even still he could feel pairs of eyes strained on him warily. The logical part of his mind said that they were well within their rights to be wary of him, but was there really any need to at this point? If Sephen had had any intention of turning over their location to Miraz, wouldn't he have done so a long time ago? He looked up to hear chirping up in the trees, smiling tiredly up at the harpies that had once inhabited the Owl Wood he and his ancestors had looked after for so very long.

As Sephen dismounted, another Narnian approached him, saying that the Prince requested to see him; turning to his Captain of the guards, he handed Turstan the reins, knowing he would keep Thane someplace safe. His horse was not a war horse, by any measure of the imagination, and was prone to startling if surprised just like any other. With all of the strange creatures that apparently found his steed's inability to speak intriguing (if sad), he didn't particularly want to find out that Thane had run off from a pair of wings or a paw suddenly appearing in his line of sight. Killian, on the other hand, probably would enjoy it here thoroughly with all of the strange and magnificent creatures that roamed the place; but, of course, when the Lord was away that left Killian in charge. Sephen hated to think what kind of travel-worn mess he looked like as he was lead to the Prince's tent, but there was really no fixing it now.

"You requested to see me, Highness?" Sephen asked as he stood in the entryway of the tent, unable to help himself but feel a bit strange having to be so polite to a boy almost half his age. It was not to say that Caspian was a child --certainly not, for no child would have the daring or knowledge to lead a resistance on Miraz--, but the Prince was not yet a man at only sixteen. But, he was the Prince nonetheless, and it wasn't any skin off of Sephen's back to treat him as such despite Miraz's declaration that he was a traitor.

Better a so-called traitor to a tyrant than an opportunistic, power-hungry usurper.

"My apologies that I was unable to provide as much this trip," He continued, "Your uncle's demands grow steeper by the week and stretch my trading routes thin for food and arms."

[Prince Caspian]

Caspian stood, feeling oddly at peace for the first time in a while. Maybe things weren’t going exactly as he had thought they would. They’d not yet had a battle and with every day that passed, surely Miraz’s army was getting strong. But his was growing too; even if it wasn’t quite with the leaps and bounds that it had begun with. Still, he knew there were more Narnians out there. There had to be. And if there were, eventually they would find him and his wayward resistance. The rebellion. Maybe he felt at peace because he was tired, because his  mind had been over worked, his thoughts too busy. That had to be it. There was certainly nothing about this situation that was even remotely peaceful.

Or maybe it was a tiny bit of hope, a tiny bit of confidence. All the better then; he could use some of that.

He glanced up at Lord Sephen’s approach, and Caspian nodded his greeting. The man decided that he needed to justify why the supplies he brought were less than normal and Caspian dismissed the comment with a light wave of his hand. “Whatever you can bring is appreciated. Greatly so.” He turned to look Sephen over, curious at the reason for his help. “We’ve not had proper opportunity to speak yet,” Caspian said, thinking his words through quite carefully before he spoke them. “So I mean to remedy that. It is a great help to us, what you are doing, and we all appreciate it even if... well, they don’t all seem to.” No, he wasn’t unaware of the way the creatures watched Sephen with something akin to distrust. He could sympathize, some of them still watched him that way too. It was a tad bit disheartening, at least for Caspian, and he supposed it might be frustrating for Sephen as well.

“Why are you helping us?” Caspian asked then, standing with his arms folded behind his back. “Simply pure curiosity. I don’t believe you intending to betray us, of course, else you would have already done so. No, by my question I mean not to accuse anything, I just wonder why you would put yourself and your land at risk for this.” Caspian believed it was a worthwhile cause. That was why, if need be, he would die for it. And he supposed that would have to be Sephen’s reason too, or something along those lines, because what else did the Old Narnian rebellion have to offer to anyone? Especially when Miraz, if he won, would surely ruin the lives of anyone who helped Caspian.

He studied Sephen in curiosity, supposing he could have made small talk for a while before jumping into his primary question but then, this was a war. There wasn’t always time for small talk. He needed to ease his own curiosity before he could ease that of those around him. He’d been asked about the  man standing before him, and he hated not having answers.

[Lord Sephen De La Braose]

   Sephen had expected this question the very first day he had requested audience with the 'rogue' Prince, offering to help supply the rebellion; at the time, it was obvious that not even the prince had trusted him, let alone his ragtag army, nor had Sephen expected trust. It came as a relief to see that Caspian was grateful as well as wondering, rather than accusing, of his reasons for taking such a risk. For a moment, Sephen was thoughtful, trying to think how to best phrase his reply. He looked up at the prince with what in any other situation might be considered a bold frankness, finding no reason to give anything less than his blunt answer.

   "My father used to tell me, 'it is better to die on your feet, than to live on your knees'. And I, like many others, have had more than enough of being only able to watch as Miraz thinks nothing of abusing his power and the people it governs. To be honest, I expect it's only a matter of time before he casts me aside like numerous others, and I have no intention of letting him do so without some kind of leverage of my own."

   For a moment he was quiet, averting his gaze back outside for a moment; though Killian was currently absent, it wasn't overly unusual for him to accompany Sephen on shorter trips where a Lord's lack of presence would not cause reason for ruckus. Still, as he looked back at Caspian, he couldn't help but feel rather foolish letting himself get sentimental, however minute it was.

   "And, there is one other reason..." He continued, his tone softer now, "At the risk of coming off sentimental or simple-minded... I would hope that, when the time should come that my brother and I have to flee and join the Narnian ranks in battle, that my brother Killian might have a better chance coming out unscathed."

   This was hardly the way to be speaking to a prince, but there was something distinctly human about the prince before him that Miraz was sorely lacking; perhaps not sympathy, so much as a profound empathy that looked painfully out of place on the face of someone still so young. Regaining his composure, Sephen looked elsewhere, breaking the tension. Now was not the time for sentimentality or weakness, regardless of their nature as humans.

   "There was another matter I wished to discuss with you." He broke in again, and he was internally pleased to hear himself sound a little more like a Lord and a little less like the worried brother, "I expect it to be a matter of time until Killian and I will be forced to flee the fiefdom. Depending on the notice I have, it may be only myself and my brother, or the serfs as well; I'm sure you're well aware that each Lord has his own units. If they are willing, there is the chance we could add to the ranks with my men."

[Prince Caspian]

Caspian listened to the man with the faintest of smiles. It seemed that Miraz made more enemies than he realized and, if the older man had simply ruled a little more reasonably, Caspian would hardly have a chance. But because he caused dissention among his own, because he did not treat his subjects fairly or kindly, perhaps the turning of his own subjects would be his downfall. If only Caspian knew how to best alert his people – for as Drinian put it, Miraz’s people were still very much his own people – that there was another option. He would take any who would fight for, and with, him. Happily. Not simply because he could use the boost in numbers, but because he wanted, more than anything, for Narnia to be a united nation. United, humans and old Narnians, all living together.

“Your father was a wise man, by the sounds of it,” Caspian said. He hadn’t really known Sephen’s father; he’d never been too involved in court affairs. Drinian probably would have known the man, but Caspian often put his interests elsewhere. “But yes, Miraz will cast you aside. It’s impossible to say when, or for what reason, but the moment he needs you not, you’ll be in danger. He is not against the murder of his own.” He attempted to kill Caspian even. And Caspian was his nephew! Unfortunately he’d also been a threat to Miraz’s son so Caspian had simply had to go. He understood all too well the cruelty of Miraz – even if he had been nearly blind to it up until not too long ago. He’d never considered his uncle would try to kill him and now they were at war. It was almost incomprehensible. 

Sephen continued, stating that there was another reason for his assistance to the Narnians. He hoped that when he and his brother would have to hurry from Miraz’s grasp and join the Narnians, that perhaps Killian might come out of the whole affair safely.

Caspian nodded, taking this into consideration thoroughly. He could not promise that Killian would be safe, because it was, in fact, a war. And it would be dishonest of him to make such a promise. Yet he did wish to reassure Sephen to the best of his ability; he could give his word that extra precaution might be taken to keep the young lord out of harm’s way. Of course, this idea could hardly be made known to the younger Lord, who might take offense. Caspian would think on it. Sephen had gone out of his way to assist them, so too should Caspian go out of his way to repay the kindness.

“Whomever you can bring,” Caspian said with a faint smile, “would be welcomed, given provisions, and treated like one of my own. I wish not to further separate the old Narnians with the new; there is another Lord, one I must not name, who has also promised those of his own who will come.” Indeed, the more the merrier. It might mean he was going to have to police more squabbles – this camp seemed prime for fights and arguments of all varieties – but perhaps in the long run it might be worth it. “When the time comes where you, your brother and your men can no longer stay safely in Miraz’s camp, hasten to this camp.”

((took me forever, and it’s lame. I’m so sorry. >.<))