He continued looking at her lips until she bit her lower one in nervousness.
"Stop that," He said, breaking the spell the silence had cast over them, "You might need that lip for something."
Her eyes widened.
"Like speaking, once your throat is better. How would that be, if your throat was able to speak, but your lip was mangled and bloody because of your constant biting?" He winked at her, unsure at what quite possessed him.
Her mouth opened, having the desired effect of ending the assault on her lower lip, but she apparently decided against speaking and closed it again.
"I know you must have many questions," He said, and she nodded solemnly. After the danger they had just escaped, it was irrationally amusing to him to keep up a one-sided conversation with his wife.
How many men married chatterboxes and lived to regret it? And here he was with a wife that couldn't say a word, at least for now.
"You probably want to know how we survived," He began, and she attentively stared up at him. "That's a complicated question. I could go on about my heroism–" He paused as she nodded enthusiastically. His heart warmed a little at it.
"--but that would be egotistic. So I won't. Suffice to say that the gargoyles are gone, and we are now back in the world from whence we came. Now, I see a lot of questions burning their way through your eyes at me, but I must ask you to stop interrupting."
She blinked rapidly at him, diverted by his characterization of her.
"You have many suspicions, as do I," He thought out loud, "but I cannot do anything about them just now. It's impossible to say how far we are from shore and home until the navigator can either find a landmark or see the stars, come nightfall."
Naomi tilted her head slightly in question.
"Ah, yes, I have not shared with you the secrets of our navigation." He raised his hands dramatically and splayed them above his head. "The stars. Yes, for hundreds of years sailors have used the stars to find our way across the vastness of the ocean, where no other landmarks abound…"
Naomi watched him as he animatedly told her a little of the history of sailing. Though Caspian was sure a nomadic people such as hers must have a similar method of navigating unknown places, he described a few short tales of sailors lost and found by their mapping of the stars above.
She appeared enthralled by his stories, or by his telling. She looked mildly confused, but not about the tales themselves, for her expression did not change with his explanations, but with his attitude. He had to admit the grumpy demeanor she'd seen from him previously was quite different than his current behavior.
If she could ask him what changed, he wasn't sure he'd be able to tell her. Her blinks became slower as she observed him, and he knew that she must be tired from her ordeal. He should let her rest.
"But I'm boring you now," He shook his head a little sadly, and she shifted in disagreement, "Oh you're kind to protest, but there are more pressing matters at hand." He glanced over to the bed.
"I think I had better go out and see what the situation is, now that we are back in our own world. I became rather preoccupied with other matters as soon as we arrived, you see. Entirely my fault, I admit. I shouldn't get distracted so easily."
His eyes came back to her with amusement mixed with the lingering fear he'd felt when he thought he might lose her. The memory of her dangling from the gargoyle's talons flashed through his mind.
His smile tightened, and her innocent, trusting gaze pressed her deeper into his heart.
The visceral reaction he'd had to her abduction was far stronger than he'd anticipated. Standing between her and danger had been one thing, but throwing himself at it without regard for his own safety had been more of a reflex than a decision.
Was she already so entrenched in his life that he gave no thought to it?
He frowned, reluctant to admit how serious his feelings had become in so short a time. He did not think of himself as a man easily swayed, and yet this woman, with seemingly no trouble at all, had wrecked through the defenses around his heart.
He didn't like it at all, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it. Was there a way to extricate a person from your affections once they had wormed their way into them?
He stood to leave, and her eyes followed him. Before he left the cabin, he glanced back with an unreadable expression, leaving Naomi behind to wonder what was going on in his mind.
Alone once more, save for her unconscious father-in-law, Naomi closed her eyes in exhaustion. She ached all over. So much so that she had trouble pinpointing the problems.
Now that the wounds on her back were bandaged, she began to tentatively test out her joints. Her right ankle throbbed. One shoulder seemed wrong somehow. Her head felt like it was still underwater. Maybe a little sleep would do her some good, if she could manage to do it despite the pain.
The emotional and physical fatigue soon won out, however, and she drifted into dreamlessness.
Out on deck, Caspian breathed the air of his own world with immense relief. His wife and father were both still alive, and there was now a good chance they could get home that way. The activity around him was calm but diligent as men worked to repair damage and get oriented towards shore.
The day was ending, and though the sun's position helped them point North where land should be, the stars would give a more precise idea when they came out of how far they were from home.
Thankfully, the patches to the hull from the whales' attack had mostly held through the storm, and the gargoyles contained their attack to the deck itself in their attempts to wrest Naomi from the ship's belly.
It seemed a miracle to come out of all that so relatively unscathed, but Caspian knew that what had been revealed was far more important than what had happened.
Patting a sailor on the back here and there as he made his way to Edmar, the young man wondered whether to wait to broach the topic until they were on land. It might be wiser to do so in the presence of a mediator, like their mother.
"We made it, Ed," He smiled, but it was deeply hypocritical for him to praise his brother at all, with the anger he felt towards him. "Now we just need to get to shore."
"Caspian," Edmar swallowed and moved forward to grip his younger brother in a tight hug. "I thought I might have lost you. You're a crazy man, you know that? I'm spreading a new nickname for you around the men: Gargoyle Slayer. Do you like it? I can change it. Maybe Damsel Saver?"
The younger brother closed his eyes, wanting to believe the hug and relief for his safety were sincere.
"That was something, wasn't it?" He asked lightly. After all these years, his older brother's approval still meant more than he wanted it to.
"Someday I'll erect a monument to your exploits, Brother," Edmar slapped him enthusiastically on the back. "Surely the Rhone will be our closest allies once they hear how you threw yourself at a monster to save one of their precious daughters."
"I hope she stays saved," Caspian winced. "Her wounds are at risk for infection. We need to get home as quickly as we can."
"Yep," Edmar spared a mild look for his younger brother, but turned back to the navigator who was already searching the darkening sky for the first stars of the evening. "I think we're close, but Levar will be able to tell us for sure…" he paused, and glanced upwards.
Caspian followed his gaze to the empty crow's nest.
"Where is the barrowman?" He asked. The man was responsible for being the first to spot land, danger, or anything else noteworthy. It was highly unusual to have no one watching.
"Lost in the storm. The gargoyles knocked several sailors overboard, or mauled them when the men tried to drive them off. The waves didn't help in that regard, either. Someone else should be up to take his place shortly, but we are still accounting for everyone."
"How many lost?" The younger man's face turned grave.
"At least four, but we're still finding everyone. I'll have to make a list." His brow furrowed at the thought.
"Who?" Caspian knew almost all the men personally. The loss would be felt throughout the people.
"The barrowman James, Hudson, Stefan off the bow, and Ishmael."