deserved_it | (no subject)

(no subject)

Twang and zip.

"Blast."

Eustace lowers his bow and eyes the target he's set up. His aim is pulling to the right. He sighs -- it's because he's distracted -- and retrieves his arrows.

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"Distracted, rather."

He nods, and comes closer, offering the bow. "Be my guest."

"All things considered, I can't say I blame you."

He takes the bow and sets an arrow to string, sighting for a moment before letting the arrow fly, striking the target with a heavy thunk.

"The next time I return here, I will be bringing Snowmane and Coalblack with me, if you are still interested."

Eustace flashes a grin. "Brilliant. I haven't seen much of Pole lately, but I'll let her know."

"They need a home like this, I think; they are unused to the palace, and I would have them happy. And I never did manage to thank you, before Aslan took you back to your world."

He lets fly another arrow, striking true.

"You needn't thank us. But you're welcome."

He falls silent for a moment, and then asks neutrally, "Where's your lady tonight?"

He flinches, and the arrow flies wide, wild.

"Anghared is... not what she said." His expression turns stony. "Anghared is Blodwen Rowlands."

He steps back as Rilian releases the arrow, then hisses out a breath at his words.

"You're not enchanted, are you?"

"No."

A short, bitter laugh.

"No, she made fool enough of me without resorting to enchantment."

Eustace pushes a hand into his hair, frowning.

"It's something, at least," he mutters, and adds more loudly, "And you know about her, obviously. Does she know you know?"

"Aye, she knows. Lucy and Caspian confronted us a few nights ago."

He draws the bow again, sending another arrow at the target.

He'll be out of arrows soon, at this rate.

"Well."

Eustace half-turns, watching the arrow.

"You're all right?"

Better this sort of coping than another.

"I'm fine. Aside from having to be rescued from my own incompetence again, perfectly fine."

Eustace gives him a sharp look.

"Rilian, you're not one I'd ever accuse of incompetence."

"Perhaps not."

Another arrow is let fly, and then he goes to gather up the arrows he's already loosed.

"I am not the king I should be, regardless."

"Why? Because you didn't recognize a disguised Witch?"

"Because I am not him."

His voice is quiet, very quiet.

"I know he would never ask it of me, but living up to my father... it is impossible. And yet it is what they all expect."

". . . Ah."

The ground becoms very interesting for a moment.

"Well. They can expect all they like of you -- and you can too -- but we'll never be anyone but us." He shrugs. "We're not our parents."

One more arrow loosed.

"I am sorry. It's all too common for me, this cursed melancholy. Normally I keep away from people until it passes."

He shakes his head.

"No need to apologize."

He hands the bow back to Eustace.

"Your form is good, when you're not distracted."

Smiling -- "Thanks. One of these days I may go out into the forest, try hunting again -- I understand there are rabbits."

"So I've heard. You may want company for a first hunt, though; they can be trickier than expected, even with rabbits as the prey."

He nods. "I'm out of practice, I expect -- it's been months since Tirian and Pole and I were hunting in Narnia."

"...I forget you've been to Narnia after my time. You've more experience than I remember."

His smile is just a little tight.

"Yes, well. I still don't know how to ride properly."

"Soemthing I can remedy, with luck."

His own smile is not exactly an easy one.

"That'd be brilliant."

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