A gift for all those Lucian platonic lovers, but my apologies incase it hasn't been what you've been looking for after hours of scrolling–unless you're like me and do enjoy a few chaste head canon moments of mine–even if this piece isn't the greatest, and has about a dozen million mistakes with Lucy, Edmund, Caspian, and Edmund's characterization. I tried my best!

She was able to watch him once, sleeping under the swinging lantern in a vessel amongst echoing crashing waves. The view outside had been black and stormy, but the lantern provided good light, and the presence of another being, even one sleeping, comforted her.

Times like these reminded her of Aslan's effect, his impact on her and the world around him, that feel he carried in his eyes that made her feel calm, almost dreamy. Solace, or at peace, she decided, a word Peter had described to her once or twice back in England when it had shown up in their textbooks on religion. She had liked the word, and tried using it on the rare conversations she had with the older crew members of the Dawn Treader, or Caspian, or Drinian, for she thought it made her sound very grown-up in a very wise, Aslan-like sort of way. They had smiled at her for it, and had laughed, but not in a nasty sort of way.

Drinian had said something about the queen, that if she used words like that, and how she described them, that she sounded more valiant and wise then the entire crew, and lived up to her title.

The moment she shared with Caspian had been a chaste one, quite and without words. He had fallen asleep, (by accident or the movement of the ship, she supposed, but hadn't thought it all that important to wonder why), and had dropped his head and mop full of curls rather promptly onto the edge of her lap.

Looking down into his sleeping face, Lucy carried her gaze around and studied his noble features, and feel the steady rocking of the watercraft rock beneath the cushions and wooden benches built out of the wall they sat on. As she felt Caspian's steady, drowsy breathes go in-time with the muted crashing of the waves outside stir against the hem of her dress, Queen Lucy decided he was very much asleep.

She began to stroke his hair, like she had seen her sister Queen Susan do once to a young sick faun in the days of the Golden Age, when she had been in charged of caring for the poor thing after an epidemic into the Dancing Lawn. Gentle Queen Susan hadn't left the little faun's side there for days while she had nursed it back to health, and Lucy had reminded admiring her sisters diligence and kindness during that small stretch of time.

Lucy wondered if she could do the same for Caspian, maybe not take care of him as directly as Queen Susan had cone with the faun, but make it her responsibility to see that he was better off, or maybe even make him a better king of sorts, if she could.

Lucy still continued stroking the king's curly hair, and got it into her head that she could make a very good nurse, if she put her mind to it. Maybe to the same way as a regular nurse did, but that she could watch over the King Caspian quite well, the same way a teacher could watch over the development of her students, or a parent over their children. The idea stuck. Lucy became a nurse, and Caspian, her very oblivious to knowing patient.

And King caspian, over the following months, wither he was really fully knowledgeable or conscious of it or not, did become the doting, impressionable, advice-seeking patient Lucy had imagined him to be. He came to care for the young queen very quickly and very kindly. He came to see her advice on things, some almost as meaninglessly as the color of his tunics, but others still quite serious. For she could give him alternate options, almost adolescent, childish ones he had yet to consider, but ones that could soothe his troubled mind on occasion when conflicting welfare matters of politics and lives needed of a king popped up.

She could be something quite close to his solace at times, for her unconventional thinking, her child-like innocence to looking at things that almost reminded him of Aslan, comforted him immensely.

As it turned out, they also worked quite compatibly together, even when in the presence of King Edmund, though never really in a way that ever suggested something anything besides a stead-fasting friendship. It was so very subtle, even King Edmund hardly noticed it.

They both liked playing chess, even if neither of them could hold a candle to the master mariner Reepicheep, and both liked sharing pointers. It was a very chaste, very well-suited, and very laid-back, easy-going relationship. They gradually both learned each others quirks and flaws; like Lucy's habit to nail-biting, or Caspian picking his finger-nails with his dagger, or Lucy's mouth twitching when stressed or upset. Even Caspian's newfound fetish/obsession with braiding things once Lucy had taught him had become something they noticed. They learned the best ways to make each other laugh, and the best ways to cheer each other up with they were sad.

Eventually, Caspian decided to give Lucy one of his family rings, his mother's ring, as he had been told, to be put on a chain and worn as a necklace. A keepsake that she was eventually even allowed to keep with her on the travel between the worlds upon going back to England. Lucy have Caspian a braided rope bracelet made from the top Reepicheep had received for her from the rigging of the top mast.

Their bond continued to coexist with forehead kisses and practice sword-fights. Soon the entire crew became aware, Eustace, and even Edmund (who took it a little hard at first when Eustace had to explain it to him, thankfully they had both been sympathetic afterwards to each other, only being the last two on the entire ship oblivious to the attraction). But they both grudgingly approved (Edmund, if not a bit reluctantly) after they had all decided to lie low and wait for any possible further advancements.

But nothing ever came, and when the time did finally come when at the breaching of the Eastern end of the world, the time for parting ways had come. Edmund (the more grumbly and reluctant of the two; Eustace was a bashful closet-lover for romance novels) and Eustace had watched and waited inconspicuously to see for any good-bye kiss or any sort of exchange could be given.

But Caspian only hugged her tight, kissed the top of her head, squeezed her tight, made a joke to stopper the flow of Lucy's tears (which Eustace had protested were because of everything that had occurred, since he had cried a bit too), and that was that. Eustace and Edmund were a little baffled but didn't bother mentioning until much later when they were back inter own world to Lucy, including themselves. To which Lucy had plainly said.

"A romance? Caspian and I?" she had laughed.

"Nothing of the sort, of course not, Ed! Caspian was only my patient after all, and I his nurse; it had been a sort of game I thought up of a few days after we had just arrived. I was wondering if I could try making him into a better king by acting like his nursemaid and being his friend rather then his subject, since I expected he had had quite a great deal of those sort of people during those three years without us. And won't he be going off getting married to Ramandu's daughter as well? A romance I believe would have only ruined the whole thing, and highly unlikely, I think. Do you two ever notice anything?" she scoffed, almost a little in child-like bewilderment to see their perplexed expressions gazing back at her.

"But," she began again, after a moments pause, and Edmund and Eustace exchanged glances and leaned earnestly forward; had they been right after all?

"I do wish we could have been there to see the wedding; I expect Ramandu's daughter would have looked very lovely in white, and maybe even Aslan would have been there. To see the celebration, that would have been a sight!"

And then with a new perspective that young girl's hearts such as Lucy's really weren't as romantically oriented as they had suspected, the two boy's put analyzing the likelihood of their friends and comrades getting married on the shelf. Maybe girl's really weren't as easily influenced to romance as they seemed, and did notice a thing or two more then Edmund and Eustace had realized.

"Well, she does have a point," Eustace grumbled afterwards.

"I do really would have liked to have been there to see the wedding. Ramandu's daughter and Caspian really would have looked very lovely in white, and if Aslan had been there...it really would have been a sight to see. I hope they end up living very happily ever after together,"

Edmund slapped his forehead and fell back onto his bunk in the room they shared.

"Not you too! I've had enough of all this romantic rubbish–why can't we just assume everyone can be friends without any sort of other nonsense! I think a lot of things would definitely work out a lot better if that was the ways things really were suppose to go. Don't keep sticking your nose into other people's business. We're all better off when everything is intellectual and platonic," the Just King grumbled into his sleeve held over his eyes.

"I think its alright to have a balance, or half-and-half. How would anything get done if people didn't get married?" Eustace pointed out thoughtfully, watching his cousin's grumpy form without malice. "I think you just don't like it that everyone can be perfectly happy with marriage; one day I think you'll see reason, Ed,"

"I'm sure I will, but today is not the day,"

Cruddy ending and not very good dialogue; if it didn't have enough Lucian based platonic-ness to fit your needs, my inbox may be open to take requests. Even so, and despite its many countless mistakes, I am a little proud of it-Tell me what you think in a review!