Caspian
He’d tried his best to focus on the task at hand as they traveled through the wood.
Now of all times, he needed his wits about him.
But his thoughts were inexplicably with her.
It only made him more grateful for Erin’s help.
She was sure of her way and offered no complaints of being tired or cold. In fact, she hardly spoke at all.
“Is something wrong?” Erin asked suddenly. She stopped in her tracks, looking at him as if this question had been brewing for sometime.
It could only be expected, as he’d been brooding all day.
“About the war?” she looked at him sympathetically with wide green eyes. His brow furrowed. He had thought they were a dark brown shade. Maybe it had been the darkness last night, but now they were brilliant green…
She blinked again, and they were brown, unremarkable, ordinary eyes.
Was he losing his mind?
“No, it wasn’t that,” he answered slowly, studying her for some sign that he wasn’t seeing things. Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, or maybe his dreams were getting the better of him.
Her head quirked to the side inquisitively.
Caspian gave up on his examination, chalking it up to a bout of momentary insanity.
“…It was someone that I lost a long time ago,” he explained.
A great and genuine sadness came over her features, the sort that weighs down a person’s soul. Somehow he could tell at once that she knew exactly how he felt, to have someone pulled from your life, to try to fill the cavity left by their absence.
“I lost someone,” Erin said quietly.
The heartache in her voice stirred an overwhelming urge within him to comfort her.
The feeling was so powerful, he almost reached for her…
To lay a hand on her? To hold her in his arms?
He wasn’t sure, but in either case, his common sense prevailed.
He was in no position to offer her consolation.
Instead, he forced himself to wait, to see if she would go on. It wasn’t his place to pry.
“He died,” she said finally, answering the question he wouldn’t dare ask. “He died at Icespire Pass.”
A heaviness lingered in the air, understanding settling over him.
She hadn’t been curious about him because of the rumors.
She’d been searching for some closure, wanting to know more about that wretched night.
For a moment he allowed himself to remember them…
He wondered if he had known this person who Erin still grieved.
It wasn’t likely, but even so the faces of the dead flashed through his mind.
“I’m sorry,” Caspian said. His hand smoothed over her cheek without thinking.
Her tearful eyes snapped to his. She looked almost startled by his touch.
Of course she was, he chastised himself. He was little better than a stranger. Caspian removed his hand and stepped back, doing his very best to look as apologetic as he felt.
She turned, putting several paces between them. He did not miss the opportunity she took to dry her eyes once her back was turned to him. “We should keep moving.” Her voice was stiff and forced.
Caspian only nodded, guilt swelling inside of him.
She was suffering, and somehow he’d made it worse.
As they continued through the wood again, all he could think of was the silence taut between them, and the urge to fill it, to comfort her.
He could feel her pain echoing within him, a blade lodged in the heart.
Caspian wanted to wrap her in his arms and run his fingers through her hair, to absorb her sadness, and perhaps share some of his own…
Which was clearly ridiculous, and inappropriate.
He couldn’t feel this way about a stranger, even if he understood the loss so clear in her.
He wasn’t the one to help her, no matter how much he wanted to. He barely knew her.