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Sun-filled days and nights bright with stars, sitting on deck, playing chess, telling tales, or singing. Caspian, his kingdom shrunk to a few men and a little wooden world amidst boundless, trackless blue, felt he'd put down a heavy load. The Dawn Treader ran bravely before the wind, the deck moved with the heave and swell of the ocean, and Lucy's eyes were the blue of the morning sea, her tousled hair gleaming bright as Aslan's mane.
It wouldn't, couldn't last, but that hardly mattered. They were here, now, and that was joy enough and more for the present.