[A] The Winds of Change are Coming [Finished]

• Storyline
• Rules
• Staff Roster
• Canon List
• Character Application
• Available Creatures

[Character of the Month]

Character of the Month
Prince Caspian

Read the Application
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."
Character of the Month Archive

<a href="http://intonarnia.com/index.php" target="_blank"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y24/Jennifu/Images/Narnia/IntoNarniaAffiliateBadge.png"></a>

[We've moved!]

We've moved!

[Prince Caspian]

((Ooc - And so it begins! Also, please, anyone reading this, feel free to join in! It isn?t limited or, if you would prefer, message me to request a private thread. I?ll be more than happy to comply!))

Things were not going well for the old Narnians ? if things kept up at this rate, they were surely going to lose to Miraz and his army! Caspian knew they were in the right, he knew that his was a cause worth fighting for and yet? and yet such knowledge would do them absolutely no good unless they could strengthen their army and improve their battle tactics. Waves of doubt were washing over him but he refused to give in to them. Caspian was not a quitter; Miraz would have to drag his dead body off this field before he would give up! That, he feared, was something Miraz would gladly do. Caspian had never been of great threat to his uncle; at least he had never seen himself as a threat. He supposed it only natural that Miraz should want his own son on the throne, but at the cost of his own nephew?s death? Caspian was certainly beginning to understand why his newfound companions hated Miraz so heartily.

?This is not how it was supposed to go,? he muttered, pacing the inside of his hastily constructed tent with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He was unused to the simplicity of his dwelling, but he knew that now most definitely was not the time to complain about such things. There wasn?t anything he or anyone else could do ? even surrendering and returning to Miraz?s castle was not an option for he knew Miraz would kill him on the spot. Still, he wanted the colourful cushions, the fluttering curtains and the security that was the castle. He wanted the expertly prepared food, the expensive wines and the sweet deserts. Caspian wanted the comforts that came with royalty back ? he was sick and tired of this weary war.

?Why hasn?t that horn done its job?? Scowling, Caspian turned and brought his open hand down on the roughly constructed wooden table, the breeze such an action caused sent many of his papers fluttering to the ground. He was not in the mood for this. With a sigh and a frown, Caspian collected the papers and crossly pushed his unruly brown hair away from his eyes. He had been tempted on several occasions to tell someone to cut it all off but his pride had kept him from it. He needed to stay calm, collected, else risk losing the confidence of his fatiguing army. They had enough against them as it was, they did not need an irrational leader as well. ?Is that horn ever going to work, or is a little assistance too much to ask for??

Instantly regretting his tone, Caspian drew in a shaky breath and set the papers down on the table. ?Aslan, I mean not to be so impatient. Of course? of course you will come, or send help, in your own time ? but I do hope your own draws near because I am running out of ideas here.? Dropping to his simple chair ? really nothing more than a tree stump that had been cut and measured to sit at a good enough height for his ?table? ? Caspian ran his fingers over the hurriedly drawn maps and battle plans. Surely this was Aslan?s will, fighting this battle to restore freedom to Narnia. After all, these creatures were all beloved by the great Lion himself, were they not? And if they were beloved by Aslan, then he must be doing the right thing by defending them, by fighting for them, with them.

Still, he could not help but wonder if the Great One might not like him. He was, after all, not truly Narnian. He came from a line that had persecuted the Lion?s beloved; would not he be to blame as well? Not directly, of course, but distantly? All the more reason to fight as hard as I can, Caspian thought with a frustrated sigh, Perhaps he will forgive me of my family?s transgressions against him.

?Any word, sire??

Caspian turned to see a young centaur standing there, nervousness upon face though he did fairly well in hiding it. The centaur seemed to sense Caspian?s questioning and bowed before meeting the prince?s gaze. ?I have been sent by my father Glenstorm, sire, He wishes to know if aid has yet arrived, or if still we wait.?

?And why has he not come to me himself?? He asked, turning his attention back to the maps and plans set out on the table. There was something missing, there had to be something missing. Something that he was overlooking, perhaps? Where was Miraz?s weakness, for surely the man had to have one! What could they do to ??

?He is settling an argument,? the centaur replied, interrupting his thoughts. Caspian looked up, slightly annoyed. So this is what it has come to, has it? Some of my best must reduce themselves to solving childish arguments. I wonder what it is this time? Shaking his head in disgust, Caspian turned his gaze to Glenstorm?s son.

?Tell your father, and only your father,? Caspian said slowly, ?That we still await the promised help. I have no doubt that it will come? the only problem is when.? Sighing, he waved his hand in dismissal and he could sense the nervous centaur?s leaving. How he wished for this whole thing to be over! ?Please, Aslan! Please send help, or come yourself if we are so privileged! But your people are weary and I am doing the very best that I can! I am but a boy, how can I win your war against my uncle? I know not how much longer we can hold out!?

Taking a few moments to gather his composure, the young prince stepped away from the table and straightened his attire. Running his hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it a little, Caspian took a deep breath and flung the cover to his tent?s entrance aside. He needed to do something, else they would lose this war within a couple of days. He was certain of it.

[SilverDragalos]

It had been a long flight.

Crest didn't mind long assignments; usually, they gave him the opportunity to think and get away from the general chaotic atmosphere that surrounded the Prince's camp.  It had also been extremely satisfying to report that he and his boy had seen nothing out of the ordinary during their patrol.  Well.. it was satisfying in that it meant that there was no impending danger to speak of, but at the same time, disheartening.  Crest had known well that Caspian had blown the horn of Queen Susan, but.. even the patient Horse was beginning to wonder where the help was.

He was lazing about, allowing himself to simply stand in the sun as Torin took to a tent and napped.  Their journeys always seemed to be more tiring to the human than on the Winged Horse, but Crest did not mind being the lookout.  Flight itself was restful enough for him, he did not need to nap directly after returning.

Instead, he grazed, pulling lazily at blades of grass that had already been trampled three times over.  He did not eat so much because he was hungry, but rather because he was lacking for anything else to do. Liquid amber eyes settled here and there, watching for a moment, before the Horse would go back to mind his own business.  The rustle of fabric drew his attention away from his snack, and with a slight snort of surprise Crest lifted his head, muscles rippling as he regarded the slightly distraught form of the Prince himself.

Ah, the boy prince.  It was a hard thing, to have the weight of all the hopes of the Old Narnians on one's shoulders.. and Caspian was young, very young, to be taking on that responsibility.  It was no wonder the boy looked close to snapping!

Crest flexed his wings, yawning as he stretched his joints and then settled his feathers onto his back.  With a lazy snap of his tail the Horse proceeded forward, his pace mannerly and collected, but unhurried.  There was no reason to rush-- he doubted Caspian was going to run away.   The Winged Horse ranged himself near his Prince, watching him carefully with one eye before speaking slowly, his mellow tones reassuring.

"Easy, my Prince.  All good things take time.  Surely you do not think that hope is lost? Concern darkens your face like a brooding storm," The Horse observed, striking the ground neatly with one forehoof for emphasis.  Normally, Crest was not quick to include himself in the business of others.. but the business of people was a different matter entirely.  As far as Crest could see, the Winged Horses had a duty to people.  After all, the first of their kind, the good Lord Fledge, had been given his wings solely for the purpose of helping people.  As far as Crest knew, it was one of the purposes of his kind to be in service to their Kings.

Crest drew himself back to the present, and heaved a deep sigh as he turned his attention back to the dark haired prince.
"Never fear, Sire.  Everything will turn out alright.  I can feel it in my bones."

[Prince Caspian]

The fresh air was a start, was an improvement. Already his burdens seemed just that little bit lighter once he had freed himself from that tent and the sketches. There had been no denying his opening optimism. Caspian had believed, fiercely, that the battle would be won in a matter of days and that they would swiftly take back all Miraz had stolen away from his people. He had thought that, because this was right, just, because Aslan would support this war? well he had thought they were guaranteed a quick, easy victory. It appeared that he had been sorely mistaken.

Already there had been injuries, near casualties. He had thought himself fairly educated in warfare but when faced up against any of Miraz?s men, he found himself to be woefully inadequate. Had his uncle not properly trained him for this purpose? In case this happened? What was he going to do if everything fell apart? If ?

No, he told himself quite firmly. There will be no more of that. First of all, this isn?t solely my fight. This is all of Narnia?s fight? all of Narnia, not only myself. Drawing in a shaky breath, Caspian took a look around him. So many Narnians had gathered to support him, to fight this battle and to help crown him King. Would they be enough?

?I only wish I had more military training,? he murmured, folding his hands behind his back. ?There is so much more I could do, if I only I knew? if only we had all the supplies. Granted, these Narnians are good for finding things?? He shook his head, quite lost in his thoughts. A few minutes passed before he realized that looking so bothered in plain view was probably not the most reassuring thing to any passing by him. No, he would not show worry, would not show concern. He could not.

Standing just a ways in front of him, Caspian could see the majestic winged horse, Crest and he could not help but smile, though his smile was hindered but the frustration and worries that plagued him still. ?Peace to you, loyal friend,? Caspian said, sighing.

"Easy, my Prince.  All good things take time.  Surely you do not think that hope is lost? Concern darkens your face like a brooding storm.?

?No, no,? Caspian said wearily, studying the creature before him, grateful for his presence and comforting nature. ?I do not fear that all might be lost. We are fighting Aslan?s war; I do not believe we can lose. But what sort of toll will this take on my people, on everyone here? How long must we wait for the promised help, or was I a fool to believe so heartily in it??

"Never fear, Sire.  Everything will turn out alright.  I can feel it in my bones."

?Of course,? Caspian said, dropping to the ground to sit cross legged on the grass. Not the most regal of poses, he knew, but even a prince could grow weary, frustrated and nervous. ?Things will turn out in the end. But where and when is that end? Will we all even reach it? I cannot understand how ??

His face reddened slightly and he turned his gaze up to meet Crest?s. ?I apologize, it is hardly princely of me, to go on so. I have every belief in our victory, and in the help to come. Aslan would not fail us, surely. He will help us, even if it only by giving us strength and bravery to fight this war in his name.? Caspian rose and brushed the dust off his clothing, doing his best to brighten his outlook. Negativity would not win this war and while doubts were only natural, they could not be allowed to dwell in his mind.

?Thank you Crest. Your contributions ? both to my confidence in the whole affair, and your faithful watching over us from the skies ? are appreciated immensely.?

[SilverDragalos]

  As the prince sat, so did Crest.  He snorted, falling back on his haunches, and sitting in a slightly queer, but still dignified position, his eyes fixed unsettling upon the prince.  Yes.. it was quite obvious that the young man was distressed.  Crest had seem the same sort of moods in Torin lately.  Why was it that humans were so prone to getting restless? Being antsy and worrying never helped a situation, but only made time seem to pass by all the more slowly.  At least, however, Caspian was talking.

"I would suppose that no one knows where the end of something is until they come at the end of the path.  But I don't see an end yet, Sire, though the way up ahead is covered in grass and branches.  There is still a way through this, difficult to pass though it may be." He paused, not moving to stand as the prince did so.  The Horse was perplexed; perhaps this was another mood that he simply wasn't familiar with.

"Sire..?" Crest paused, and then laid his ears back against his head as the human began to apologize.  Crest rose to his feet with some effort (coordinating four legs wasn't always easy!) and snorted loudly, striking angrily at the ground with a back hoof.

"I beg your pardon, sire, but this manner of yours is quite unbecoming.  Listen to yourself, shaming yourself for doubting! My Prince, it is alright to doubt, to be uncertain.  You are all the more a man for admitting it.  Emotions and rational thoughts are what make us People and Good Beasts. Do not forget that." He whickered, extending a wing to put about the young man's shoulders, his dark head tilted to one side in response to the praise.  Crest nickered, his ears flicking forward and his skin twitching, but other than that, he took the praise quietly, and with dignity.

"It is an honor to serve you, Sire.  Torin and I are at your disposal, your pawns.  We shall go wherever 'tis you wish us to go," He swore, bowing his regal head, and then flicking his ears forward, dipping his head to half whisper near the prince's ear.
"I should share this with thee, though.  On our latest patrol, there was the queerest young woman playing in the lake of the Witch, and a Unicorn was there, also.  I think the girl was good, she seemed to like me.. the Unicorn, I do not know.  He did not come over to speak with us.  It is not much, I know.. but I thought maybe you could make sense of it.  'Tis not often we see two unfamiliar Old Narnians in the same vicinity."

[Prince Caspian]

Caspian was certainly not used to being rebuked so, though he took it in stride as he listened to the patient horse?s words. Yes, indeed his manner was unbecoming. This, all of it, was so new to him. He had never been under such pressure before; though he decided that, considering the circumstances, he was actually doing quite well. Taking a deep breath, he turned to look out over the camp, his heart going out to all these who had suffered for so long not only under Miraz?s regime, but also under that of the Kings before him. While Caspian would have given nearly anything to have his father alive again, he knew that this opportunity would not be his had the rest of his life been spent in the warmth and luxury of the castle. But now he had the opportunity to right things, to assist in making Narnia what it was once. He would not let them down.

?You are quite right, friend,? he said slowly, deep in thought. ?Of course it is only natural to have doubts, to have concerns ? I should not mourn them but rather use them to my advantage. How exactly, I am not sure. But it matters not, I suppose.? Giving a small smile, for he knew he was making very little sense, Caspian shrugged. He listened to what else the horse had to say, burrowing his brows in thought.

?Thank you for your loyalty,? he murmured, distracted by the last of what Crest had said. ?A girl in the water, you say? And a unicorn? Strange that they should be so far out here and yet not at the table? not making themselves known to us. I should assume they are for Narnia, but one cannot make those assumptions quite yet, it isn?t safe.? He paused, crossing his arms loosely before himself. ?We can do nothing about it at the moment, I fear, but I will keep a close watch out for them ? you will do the same? And any other suspicious beings as well.? Frowning slightly, Caspian turned to Crest. ?I like to think that all the old Narnians are for Narnia, but I do suppose there is a possibility that they are not.?

Some talking in the distance caught his attention and Caspian turned to observe them. He could not help but chuckle at the childish arguing between a Dwarf and Squirrel. Neither he knew personally, though he was tempted to step in and settle the argument. It was slightly disheartening that his army could stoop to such petty behaviour ? at least, he was assuming it was a petty argument ? when they had a war at hand. But for all he knew, Miraz?s army was just as childish.

?Do you suppose I ought to do something?? He asked Crest, motioning to the squabbling pair. ?I don?t know how I could help, but seeing them arguing like that just might drive me positively mad.? Frowning slightly, Caspian tilted his head to study them. ?Or, should I leave them be and hope they?ll settle it on their own??

[Reepicheep]

"It is best to merely let them settle their arguments, sire."

Though the words had been spoken in a high and squeaky tone, they had been spoken from experience. Reepicheep, Chieftain of the Talking Mice, approached with his second in command following closely in tow. Both mice wore their rapiers, and both kept a paw on the hilt more from habit than actually needing to draw their weapons. Reepicheep offered the Boy Prince a deep and flourishing bow that he held a long moment before rising and glancing in the direction of the Dwarf and squirrel.

It was quite interesting to see the two species arguing so heatedly, though it was hardly wise to step into the middle of a debate like that. Dwarves were notorious for holding long grudges and they were short of temper. The same could be said of Reepicheep, however, and the irony was not lost upon him. His attention was drawn away from the debate and Reepicheep gave a slow shake of his head. Soon enough the two would settle their score with nothing more than bruised egos. Reepicheep had seen it hundreds of times amongst his own people.

When his attention had been properly diverted back to Caspian, the mouse chieftain noted his physical condition and his beady dark eyes locked onto the Prince's own. A leader should not openly express his feelings of a war lest he drive his forces to believe him weak and incapable of leading them to victory. Though the Horn had been sounded, and several days had gone by, but Reepicheep forever held onto the fact that he knew that help would be arriving shortly. There was no doubt in his mind of that, for Aslan would never allow his people to suffer.

"If you do not let them settle their differences now, then they will carry it with them onto the battlefield. And that is never a good thing."

Reepicheep, despite his short temper and quickness to strike up argument and challenge, was being rather wise and calm about this. Though Caspian did not show his emotions in action at the moment his complexion and the way his shoulders sagged told the story. Reepicheep had seen it in several leaders before; It was the look of a man defeated, exhausted of all hope, doubting himself at every turn. Reepicheep could not help but feel sorry for the human as it was his own uncle who hunted him. Family was as important to humans as it was to mice, and Reepicheep shuddered inwardly at the thought of going to war against a member of his own family.

Though a winged horse stood with Caspian, Reepicheep had not yet addressed it and, quite frankly, felt no need to. Even if the horse was an ally, the mouse considered him an equal and felt that introductions were not necessary. If the winged one wished to know who he was, he would simply have to ask. Stubbornness was something that mice in general were known for, but Reepicheep was so in a polite manner. Or as much a one as could be mustered.

"Fear not, sire. Aslan will send us help... I feel it in the very tip of my tail."

[SilverDragalos]

  Crest opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that escaped him was a slightly surprised snort, for before he could form words, another, different voice spoke from somewhere below.  The Horse arched his neck, tilting his head to the side and peering curiously down at the Mouse for a moment, before he resumed his relaxed posture, one hind hoof cocked on the ground.  What the Mouse was saying was true and good, and Crest saw no reason to interrupt him.

Yes, Crest knew of Reepicheep.  Indeed, there were few in the camp who did not know him.  Any large Animal that came to join the Resistance soon learned to watch where they put their feet, for stepping on a Mouse (or, Reepicheep in particular), would not have ended well at all.  Crest admired spirit, but he also felt as if there was something as.. too much bravery.  In all fairness, Reepicheep certainly qualified as someone who had that flaw.  Crest figured that, if he had been that small, he would have been quite careful of how he treated people.  But, if the Mouse was confident enough in himself as to not care....

...Well.  Then it was hardly Crest's problem, and he refused to bother himself with worrying over it.  Reepicheep could take care of himself.

"Greetings to you, Reepicheep," Crest whickered, his low, mellow voice hiding his amusement well.  The Horse paused, tilting his head toward Caspian, one dark ear flicked toward the young prince.
"I agree with the Mouse, sire.  Patience is difficult to learn, but works wonders when exercised. I have not known of a time when Aslan has deserted us when we were in need."

Crest pawed at the ground, careful to avoid coming near Reepicheep or his fellow Mouse.  Pity, how thin and torn the grass was.
"Be strong, and do not doubt.  That is what you ask of us, yes? Then, it is what we ask of you."  Not as if Crest wanted to remind the boy of his responsibility, but at the same time, it was important that he remembered that he, Caspian, was not the only one restless and upset.

"I think," Crest began in a slightly more cheerful tone, half flexing his wings, "I think that what your majesty is wanting is a good, long, walk.  You've been spending too much time in that tent, reading and worrying.  A change of scenery, perhaps, might do your heart some good."

[Prince Caspian]

Caspian ran his hand through his messy brown hair, uncertain about the whole affair. The two in the distance kept up their squabbling and he wanted to cease it, wanted there to be peace among his army. If they could not handle themselves at camp, how could they handle themselves out on the field when the enemy drew near? It was a unnerving dilemma ? he had never led an army before and he was tired, tired and frustrated. While he was doing his best to hide it ? and he was certain none but the most observant could catch his feelings? at least, that was his hope ? it was still wearing at him.

Immensely startled by the firm, but high pitched voice that addressed him ? quite out of nowhere actually ? Caspian looked around and his gaze finally settled on the small creature before him. Granted, Reepicheep was much larger than any mouse he had even seen before escaping from Miraz?s castle ? the mouse very nearly reached his knees. Still, compared to a good majority of the others in his army, Reepicheep was small. What the mouse lacked in size though, he certainly made up for in bravery and confidence. He would never wish to be on Reepicheep?s bad side and he was certainly glad that the mouse was fighting for Aslan and not for Telmar.

?It is best to merely let tem settle their arguments, sire,? the mouse said, obviously taking note of Caspian?s frustration. ?If you do not let them settle their differences now, then they will carry it with them onto the battlefield. And that is never a good thing.?

?You speak wisely, Reepicheep,? Caspian said slowly. He knew the mouse was right, though it was difficult to watch the arguing without feeling a little cross about it. This was a war? the outcome of this war would have a significant impact on the future of Narnia. And all they could do was argue? But then, it wasn?t as though they really had anything else to do. Maybe he was just missing the days where he had nothing better to do, when he could wander around with a book or sit outside and look at the stars. That day, when Dr. Cornelius had told him they were going to venture up into the tallest tower late at night to see the phenomenon in the sky? that had been the last normal day that he had had. Sometimes he missed not knowing what was going on. Still, he knew this was where he was supposed to be. Suddenly the arguing didn?t seem quite so unbearable anymore ? though it was still annoying.

?Yes, yes, Reepicheep, Aslan will send help. I know that, really.? He turned to Crest then and smiled slightly at the majestic horse. ?Of course, friends. Having strength, having faith is easier said than done but it is a choice. Thank you.? Crest had suggested a walk, a change of scenery. This did sound wonderful and nodded. ?You are both wise creatures; you Crest, and Reepicheep you also. I thank Aslan for your loyalty and devotion for I do not know what I would do without it.?

Glancing around, Caspian was pleased that things seemed to have calmed a little, and that the rest of the army seemed relatively calm ? as calm as one could be in the midst of the circumstances. All he needed to do was fix his mindset and everything would be fine. It had to be fine and that was that. After all, he was fighting for Aslan and if everything he had heard about the great Lion was true? there was no way that they could lose.