For King and Country ⭒Caspian x Reader⭒

Chapter 22

Whispers of fog crept over the stale waters of the Vidalian shore. After watching the waters of Narnia play, dance, and leap, only one word could be used to describe the silence that permeated the still sea-Death

The ship parted the waters as the fog bell rang out from the mast above as if announcing-Demise follows the prow of this ship.

I held my cloak close to my chest as the chill of Vidalia, the shaded country as some called it, came ever closer. Even in the deeps of summer, its cold winds held warmth captive from its people; greedily and without remorse.

"Land, ho!" Shouted a sailor from the crow's nest.

Surely enough, Vidalia pulled her foggy curtains back to reveal the greyish hues of the bustling pier. Beyond it, was the beginning of the settlements; the village. No streaks of vibrant colors danced across the streets, children didn't dart out between the adults in fits of giggles; only soldiers patrolling the streets in armor black as the night and villagers scurrying about with their heads down.

The ship reared up to the dock, and the sailors wasted no time mooring the ship. I stayed in the shadows, savoring every moment before my feet would touch Vidalian soil.

The week-long journey had been rough. Storms churned the seas as if the gods themselves were fighting my departure—forbidding it. Every night, I pulled myself into a tight ball in my hammock, engaging every sense to remember Caspian; what the feel of his arm felt like draped against my waist, or the remark he would have made at the kind of knots these sailors made. Every empty space cried out for his presence.

The gangway slammed onto the dock, knocking aside a crate of hens in its clumsy release, causing a series of squawks to fill the air, while a merchant began to curse out the sailors responsible in many different tongues.

"It's time," Said a scruffy old sailor ambling over; ready to grab my upper arm.

Stepping out of his reach, I said, "I hope you get your coin."

"That I will, missy, and lots of it," He said with a toothless smile.

His throaty laugh followed me as I made my way down the gangplank. Despite the musk that clung to my dress, and the mess my hair became from the squall of the winds, I held my head high.

Soldiers stood at the foot of the gangplank waiting for me. The crest emblazoned on their gloves and cloak was not that of my family crest, but Erik's—two swords crossed over each other with a fire blazing behind them.

"Where am I being taken?" I said before stepping into their grip.

They didn't utter a word as they corralled me towards a black carriage. The cold steel of their armor permeated the fabric of my gown and cloak further chilling me in the frigid air.

As I stepped into the carriage, a single word came from one of the helmeted guards—Traitor.

I whipped around to tell him exactly what I thought, but the door of the carriage slammed closed behind me; leaving me in darkness aside from a small lantern hung from a hook inside the carriage. Curtains shrouded the windows, that even if the sun itself road in tandem with my carriage, its light couldn't breach the cloth.

The carriage rattled over the cobblestone streets; the murmurs of those standing in the streets bled through the wall of cloth that separated us.

"Who is that?" Voices hissed.

"It was a girl."

"She looked familiar."

Slowly, I crept to the edge of the carriage seat and moved the curtain just enough to peak out. People lined the streets as the royal carriage made its way down the main thoroughfare.