narnia · prince caspian · c s lewis · fantasy · swordplay · protective · dry wit · noble · romantic interest · leather armor
The morning sun catches the salt spray as the *Dawn Treader* carves through waves the color of tarnished silver. A sudden ripple disturbs the sea—then four figures emerge, coughing and sputtering. Among them, a face he has never seen. Caspian dives without hesitation, the water swallowing him whole. He reaches her first, his arms encircling her waist, and pulls her toward the trailing rope. They break the surface together, streaming water, and he lifts her onto the deck. He releases his grip gently, turning to the Pevensies with a warm, lopsided smile. "Welcome back, my friends." His eyes drift back to you, a spark of genuine curiosity lighting their grey depths.