[for Anne] went back to what you knew

[navixator]

Being back at all, he knew, was a blessing. Being back and able to hold Anne tight certainly also was. Being back and also on his feet again?

He didn't want to diminish the other two genuine miracles, but he also couldn't help being entirely elated.

The first day, of course, he had been told not to push himself. It had been enough, at least, that he was able to walk through the Cair again--had been able to stand at the tallest spire and make his way down to the shore. It had been enough to stand on the dock and greet the newly returned Lord Drinian. It had been enough to lean on Anne's arm at the end of the day and feel himself fully, properly a King.

The next day saw him rising properly early of his own accord. It saw him strapping on light armour before the morning meal, feeling entirely secure in his own body again.

And meant, at the end of the meal, that his hand found Anne's with an entirely cheerful smile as he pulled her knuckles up for a soft kiss.

"Come. You're a woman of Narnia now. I want to show you what that means."

Comments

[navixator]

The question clearly startled him slightly. There was a touch of confusion--if also excitement--in his eyes as he turned from the book to meet her gaze.

"Emotions?"

It was clearly a difficult thing to say. It was also, perhaps less clearly, a difficult thing to pin down.

Was it right to say to a woman one loved that the same word--love--described one's feelings for the sea?

[happyfalcon]

Anne nodded slowly.

"Poetry is all about emotion, feelings - think of it as an expression of devotion, a tribute to that which moves you so powerfully," Anne explained.

The arts were indeed difficult to teach.

"Think on it - what do you feel when you step onto the ship? What do you feel when you weigh anchor?" Her fingers reached up at that point to brush against his cheek. "What do you feel when the spray of the salty sea touches your skin?"

[navixator]

"That's-- what I feel, really." His thumb brushed thoughtfully in a small circle over her shoulder, attention flitting toward the window for the moment. The sea was, thankfully, visible from most east facing windows in the Cair. "Devotion. Being on the water-- even in harbour, it..."

His sigh was entirely besotted as he returned his attention to the woman at his side.

"It feels very much like an act of devotion."

[happyfalcon]

Anne tried to focus, for she was the teacher here. But his touch was just so soft and wonderful it was difficult not to get caught up in it.

"Devotion to the vessel, or to the water? Many would be confused," Anne pointed out. "Make sure it's clear when you write just to whom or what you're expressing such adoration."

[navixator]

"But-- to all of it, Anne." His eyes flicked back and forth between hers, as if searching for an answer. "To the very-- act of sailing itself."

His heart was earnest, yes, but his words weren't quite in place.

[happyfalcon]

She moved a hand over his, gripping softly. Her dark eyes locked on his.

"You have the heart, clear enough. It's just a matter of finding the proper words," Anne replied. "Let's try another topic. You love the sea, but what else sparks strong feelings in you?"

[navixator]

The furrow of his brow was deep, but the trust in his eyes was apparent. She would teach him; and he would be as willing a pupil as she had been, if perhaps a less naturally capable one.

"My kingdom. My-- my people. You, Lady Anne."

[happyfalcon]

She smiled, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against his temple.

"We're alone now - you can dispense with the formality and call me simply Anne," she pointed out.

But, back to the lesson.

"Then, what emotions do they evoke, then?"

[navixator]

"...joy."

All of them, really. Universally. It brought a bit of clarity to his brow, thumb beginning to trace quiet circles again against her shoulder.

"Devotion, yes, but-- a very different sort of joy. Not quite so free-falling, more-- settled."

[happyfalcon]

Anne smiled, appreciating the feeling. Again she found herself distracted by the motion of his thumb against her skin. Her mind began to drift, but then she focused again.

"Wonderful - you have the emotions then, Majesty. That's the most important part. Now it's just a matter of finding the words," Anne pursed her lips again. "Have you ever composed a love letter?"

[navixator]

The flush in his cheeks came quickly, although it only lingered briefly.

"Love letters?"

He couldn't help the way his eyes dropped from meeting hers. He couldn't help the nervous quality in his shifting.

[happyfalcon]

Anne chuckled a bit, though she quelled the laughter in her throat to keep from embarrassing him further.

"They're just the best example for expressing emotions on paper, after poetry of course. They're very similar that way," Anne explained. "It's all right, hmm..."

She set her knuckle between her lips as she thought for a moment more.

"Remember when you were explaining how to sail to me? When you set quill to paper, pretend that you're explaining these things - the sea, your kingdom," her "everything, to someone who has not seen or known them. And use your feelings to describe them all."

[navixator]

Nodding came slowly, but it did come. His brow stayed rather furrowed in concentration as he did.

"I did-- try to write one, you know. Rather recently."

Incredibly recently. The night before the ship which threw him into the sea had been destroyed.

"It was-- terrible."

[happyfalcon]

Anne tilted her head, curious. Recently? Her eyes flashed a bit, not having received one and wondering if he had perhaps intended it for another. Then again, why would he have admitted to writing one if he did not intend it for her?

Still...

"Did you? I'm sure it wasn't nearly so abysmal as you think," Anne smiled, giving his hand a soft squeeze. "If it was formed of your truest feelings, then it could not be terrible."

[navixator]

"Not the feelings, I'm certain," he sighed, lips lifting just slightly at the corners when she smiled at him. "But I'm certainly glad to have a second chance at the writing of it."

At everything, really, given how nearly he'd been lost to the sea.

"Would... Would it please you?"

[happyfalcon]

Her smile broadened - again she squeezed his hand. She too was glad, so very glad, that he was safe and home and sitting here now beside her.

"As am I," Anne replied, nodding slowly. "So very glad to have you here..."

But she stopped and glanced up to him again.

"Would it please me? To have you write? I am only here today to teach you, Majesty - whether you find it interesting enough to actually practice, that is your decision. I confess that I would be happy and curious to see what poetry you might compose. But the choice is yours."

[navixator]

His shoulders lifted with a slightly helpless gesture. The corners of his lips were finding their way more properly toward a smile now.

"Isn't that why men write poetry? Or-- sail to the end of the world? To please the women they love?"

It certainly seemed most of the poetry he had ever read had been dedicated to women.

[happyfalcon]

Anne blushed, smiling. Slowly again she nodded.

"It is," Anne leaned towards him a bit more. "In that case, yes - it would very much please me to hear poetry crafted by your hand."

She gave his hand another gentle squeeze.

[navixator]

"Then I'll do my best."

And, since they're alone, he also indulged in the luxury of being able to lean closer and press a kiss to her cheek.

"Will you tell me about your favourites? To let me emulate them?"

[happyfalcon]

As he leaned in, Anne was just brazen enough, once he began to pull away, to brush a soft kiss to his lips. Brief, but intimate.

"My favorites? Oh, there are just so many..." Anne smiled, but leaned forward again. "My favorite goes like this:

They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.

Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, 'dear heart, how like you this?"

[navixator]

Here, in this private nook of the library, there was absolutely no hesitation to press his lips back to hers. There was also no hesitation to keep his attention on her lips while she recited--both to focus and, very much, to keep the sensation of her kiss fresh in his mind.

He was certain he could write volumes about the taste of her lips if he could only being to find the words.

"Very beautiful."

[happyfalcon]

"That is why it is one of my favorites," Anne smiled. "Thomas Wyatt wrote it from the heart. That is the key, my love."

Anne reached forward, pressing fingers gently to his chest. Over his heart.

"What you feel here," Anne spoke softly. "Let it rise, fill you up-" here she moved her fingers across his collarbone, down his arm and came to rest at his fingers. "And come out here."

[navixator]

"You make it sound so easy." The hand on her shoulder shifted, briefly smoothed against her cheek instead. "Did you write it yourself, often?"

A queen could very well be an incredibly busy woman, he knew, but he also knew that the Queen of England had seemed a much different thing from a Queen of Narnia.

[happyfalcon]

"I cannot claim credit for that poem, no," Anne replied, leaning her face into his touch. "That particular poem was written by Thomas Wyatt back in England."

She smiled looking up into his eyes. "I've composed poetry of my own, but none quite so polished as Thomas Wyatt's."

[navixator]

"At the risk of offending the absent Master Thomas Wyatt, I'd be far more eager to hear your own."

Then again, it would likely be just as well to hear more Wyatt if she were the one speaking it.